


Let It Snow

by crescentmoonshine



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Party, Drunk Harry, Drunk Louis, Fluff and Angst, Happy Ending, Jealousy, M/M, Minor Injuries, Miscommunication, Mutual Pining, Photographer Harry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-23
Updated: 2018-12-23
Packaged: 2019-09-25 04:25:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 27,858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17114435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crescentmoonshine/pseuds/crescentmoonshine
Summary: Four years, four disastrous Christmas parties, four disastrous attempts to get it right.





	Let It Snow

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to my two main bitches, [Lena](https://archiveofourown.org/users/wickedarcher_08) and [Zoe](https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Girl_Almighty) for all the moral support writing this, betaing/editing this, and being the fxcking best people ever I love you more than life!!!
> 
> Everyone go read their fics, they're amazing!
> 
> Merry Christmas! xxx

**2015**

Louis was refilling his drink for only the third time that evening, when a hard body slammed into his back, caging him in against the kitchen counter.

“Look so good t’night, Looou…” Harry’s deep voice rumbled in his ear. His arms circled Louis’ waist, sloshing a red cocktail over the rim of his cup before Louis pried it from his grasp, setting it down next to his own.

“Thanks,” he chuckled awkwardly. Would he ever be fully comfortable around his best friend? Not with the constant worry that he’d suddenly pop a boner every time Harry pressed his muscular body against his. “How many of those have you had, hmm?” He asked, spinning to face Harry -- which was equally as risky with the half chub he was already sporting.

“Lost count.” Harry’s cranberry-stained lips curved into a beaming smile, dimples popping. “Come sing with me.”

“Sing with you?” Louis scoffed. “Please. You’d have to get me a lot drunker than this, to get me karaoking.”

“I’ll make you a drink, then!”

“I’m not getting drunk tonight, I told you already.”

“Looou!” He whined, dropping his forehead to Louis’ shoulder. “Sing with meee!”

“I’m moving tomorrow, H. I’m not doing it hungover.” He nodded over his shoulder towards his own cranberry fizz. “This is my last drink of the night.”

“Party pooper,” he mumbled into the thick cable knit of Louis’ Christmas jumper.

“C’mon, come sing me a song, then,” Louis murmured, digging his fingers into the fleshy meat above Harry’s hip bones. “Sing me _Let It Snow_.”

“Let It _Go?”_ He asked, perking up immediately. God, he was perfect when he smiled.

“Fuck no. _Let It Snow_ , or I’m out that door before you get to the chorus,” Louis ordered with a threatening finger in Harry’s face.

“Fiiiiine!” He groaned. “But I want you front row, center.”

“Whatever you say,” he grinned.

He let Harry tug him by the hand into the living room, where Niall was finishing up an enthusiastic rendition of _Crying in the Club_.

“You sit that sexy little ass right here, and let me serenade you, okay?” Harry ordered, planting Louis in the green velvet armchair by the fireplace. He stood up, stumbling just a little, before righting himself with that goofy grin that made Louis’ knees wobble.

“Don’t trip over your feet, Bambi. Can’t have you breaking another ankle,” he chuckled with a fond smile.

“Heeyyy!” Harry pouted, “You promised you’d stop teasing me for that.”

“Unless it’s for safety purposes,” he pointed out. “I’m serious, H. _Be careful!”_

“Yes, Daddy,” he smirked as he sashayed off.

Niall flopped across Louis’ lap in the next moment and looped his arms around his neck. “Did I just hear Harry call you Daddy?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Niall.”

“This song goes out to my main squeeze, my ride or die, my future wife, father of my cat, Louis William Tomlinson.”

“For fuck’s sake, Harold! Sing it, already!” Louis shouted, before burying his face in Niall’s shoulder in an attempt to hide his reddening cheeks.

The music kicked on, and Harry began a sort-of-shimmy, sort-of-hip-thrust while he waited for his first line. Louis’ stomach knotted with a mixture of second-hand embarrassment and first-hand endearment.

_“Oh, the weather outside is frightful_

_But the fire is so delightful_

_And since we've no place to go_

_Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow”_

“It’s annoying how good he is, even this drunk,” Niall murmured.

_“Man it doesn't show signs of stoppin'_

_And I brought some corn for poppin'_

_The lights are turned way down low_

_Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow”_

“I like your version of _Crying in the Club_ more than the original, if that means anything to you,” Louis offered.

“Means everything, coming from you,” he beamed, ducking to press a kiss to his cheekbone.

_“When we finally kiss good-night_

_How I'll hate going out in the storm_

_But if you really hold me tight_

_All the way home I'll be warm”_

“I can’t believe you’re leaving tomorrow,” Niall sighed, tightening his arms around Louis.

_“And the fire is slowly dying_

_And, my dear, we're still good-bye-ing_

_But as long as you love me so_

_Let it snow, let it snow, and snow”_

“I’m only going to be in London,” Louis chuckled, pretending, as always, that it was no more than a block or two down the road.

_“When we finally kiss good-night_

_How I'll hate going out in the storm_

_But if you really grab me tight_

_All the way home I'll be warm”_

“Can’t believe you’re leaving without telling Harry how you feel,” he added lowly.

_“Oh the fire is slowly dying_

_And, my dear, we're still good-bye-ing_

_But as long as you love me so_

_Let it snow, let it snow, let it snooow!”_

Harry finished his song with a deep bow before stumbling and catching himself in Jade’s lap. “Hello, beautiful! Merry Christmas!”

“Merry Christmas, Harry,” Jade chuckled with a roll of her eyes, offering him a hand to right himself before sending him on his way.

“Incoming.” Louis smirked just a second before Harry’s body crushed Niall’s, and consequently, his own.

“Oof, Harold!” Niall grunted, “Watch the jewels!”

“My beautiful boys,” he sighed, dropping a smacking kiss to each of their foreheads. “Love you so much!”

“We love you too, lad,” Louis huffed. “We also love breathing, though.”

“And dancing!” He exclaimed, leaping to his feet. “Dance with me!”

Niall shook his head, immediately. “I promised, I’d find Liam. You dance with him, Lou. Have a nice chat,” he added, thrusting a sharp elbow into Louis’ gut.

“Fucker,” Louis muttered as Niall got off his lap and retreated to the kitchen. But the moment his body was no longer blocking his view, his demeanor completely softened again at the sight of Harry.

“Dance with me!” He exclaimed, holding both hands out to hoist Louis out of his chair.

Louis collided with his chest, and Harry’s arms immediately looped around his waist, keeping him pressed firmly against him. “I haven’t seen you this drunk since Easter when you ate all my Maltesers and blamed it on Evie,” he chuckled, hooking his arms around Harry’s neck, tangling his fingers in his long curls.

“She _did_ eat them!” He insisted for the hundredth time. “And I’m not even that drunk!”

His foot caught the edge of the rug, and he stumbled sideways. Louis tugged him back upright just before his temple collided with the corner of the mantle, and he directed their off-beat slow dance further away from any hazards. “C’mon, Grace, stay away from sharp edges,” he chuckled.

“Loouuu!” Harry groaned, pulling him closer. His hips pressed into Louis’ and his chest flattened against his. “Don’t leave meee!”

Louis huffed a laugh into the column of Harry’s neck and pressed his nose there, inhaling his scent. “We knew the day would come, Styles. Can’t share a bathroom forever.”

“We were supposed to grow old together,” he pouted. “Who’s going to give Evie a sex talk when she starts dating?”

“Where are _you_ going?” Louis asked, feigning outrage. “You’re not abandoning my daughter, are you? That’s it, I’m taking her with me. You can’t be trusted.”

“I’m not going anywhere!” Harry exclaimed. “And neither is Evie! You’re the only one abandoning anybody.”

“Way to lay on the guilt,” Louis sighed, burying his face in Harry’s collarbone. It was hard enough moving away from everybody he loved, without the person he loved _most_ sending him on a guilt trip every twenty four hours.

“Noooo! I’m so proud of you, Lou! So proud,” he insisted, drawing Louis’ face out of hiding with a finger under his chin.

“Thanks, love,” Louis chuckled, stopping himself before he rolled his eyes at Harry’s drunk sincerity.

“I don’t want you to feel bad, though!” He frowned. “I don’t. You’re going to be such a great teacher.”

“Substitute teacher,” Louis corrected automatically.

“Eventual _full-time_ teacher,” he beamed, stroking a thumb down this scruffy jaw.

“Eventual,” he conceded with a nod.

“I’m so proud of you, Lou. Honestly.” Harry’s deep voice rumbled up from his chest sending a bolt of electricity down the length of Louis body, directly to his cock.

“Thanks,” he managed.

“I’m just going to miss you,” he admitted lowly.

“Is this your way of telling me that you and and the boys are cancelling your trip to visit next month?” Louis quirked a challenging eyebrow up at his best friend.

“No! We’re coming! You can’t keep us away,” he beamed.

“As long as the heavy lifting is finished,” Louis teased.

“You’re moving the weekend before Christmas! It’s--”

“--Literally the busiest week of the year at the bakery,” Louis finished for him. “I know, babe. Don’t worry.”

“I’ll bring Evie with me.”

“Do not bring our cat to London,” Louis ordered.

“Lou! Shush! She’s going to think you don’t love her!”

“She’s going to think I don’t want her to get loose in the big city.”

“Worked out fine for Oliver,” Harry pouted.

“Remember how upset Jenny was when she thought he was missing?”

“Fine...”

“Stop pouting, or I’ll take her with me and leave you all alone.”

“You wouldn’t!” he gasped.

“Nah, I’ll leave her… Give me a reason to visit home,” he smirked.

“Loouuu!”

“Stop, you know I love you,” he chuckled softly.

“Then stay…” he whined, pressing his cheek to Louis’ temple.

“Okay.”

“What?! Really?” Harry frowned, pulling back to search his face frantically. “You can’t stay for me, Lou! You have a job, and a flat and--”

“I’m _joking,_ Haz, Jesus. I’m leaving in the morning.”

Harry’s entire weight suddenly lurched sideways, taking Louis with him.

“Harry!” Louis exclaimed, hands gripping his shoulders to steady him.

“Kiss me,” he blurted, leaning into Louis’ personal space.

“What?” Louis squeaked. His back was suddenly pressed against the hallway wall as Harry’s tongue slipped out to wet his stained, plush lips.

“Kiss me, Lou,” he breathed against his lips. “You can’t leave without kissing me first.”

“Why not?” Louis’ heart was slamming so hard against his chest, there was no way Harry couldn’t feel it.

“You can’t.”

“I can’t…?” Louis sighed, just before their lips finally met. He tasted like cranberry and sunshine and daisies.

Harry’s long fingers dug into his hips, drawing a whine from his lips. “Of course you can’t,” he mumbled without breaking their kiss.

Louis’ fingers tangled in Harry’s long curls, tugging until his head dropped back, exposing the long column of his neck.

“Wanted this forever,” he moaned as Louis sucked a bruise to the hinge of his jaw.

Louis tugged harder, and Harry’s hips stuttered against his. “I hate you,” he sighed.

“What?!” Harry gasped, pulling back to gape at Louis.

Louis pulled him back to his lips without a word, and coaxed his mouth open with a nibble to his stained lower lip.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were such an amazing kisser?” Harry panted into Louis’ mouth.

“Because you waited until I was leaving to find out,” Louis sighed. “And _that_ is why I hate you.”

Harry shifted to the side and sucked Louis’ earlobe into his mouth for a moment before whispering, “Stay.”

The ache that had taken up a permanent residence in Louis’ chest since he was offered a long-term Substitute Teaching job at a fancy private school in London, returned full force as he shook his head. “Can’t.”

“Then kiss me,” Harry begged.

So, Louis did. He explored every dark, hot corner of Harry’s gorgeous mouth until his head was swimming and his lips were tingling. And when Harry tugged him away from the wall, and backed into his bedroom down the hall, Louis followed without hesitation.

His weight settled easily on top of Harry. His hips fit so perfectly between those sinful long legs, and Harry’s hands settled immediately on the globes of his bum. It was everything he’d dreamed of since the very first day they’d met.

Their hips moved in perfect rhythm, and their breaths synced so they hardly had to come up for air. Even when they finally did, it was only long enough to pant against each others flesh, before Louis moved to darken the bruise he’d sucked before.

Harry moaned louder than ever, before throwing his weight to the side, and before he knew it, Louis was on his back with Harry’s big hands under his jumper. His deft fingers teased Louis’ nipples and gripped his hips before dipping beneath the button on his jeans.

“Fuck,” Louis breathed, hips chasing Harry’s warm touch. “Fuck, stop.”

Harry hummed against his collarbone as he popped the button, and dipped his fingers into Louis’ briefs, teasing the swollen head of his cock.

“Unnggghhh! No! Harry, no! Fuck!” he gasped, scrambling to push Harry’s hand away. “Not like this!”

“Whyyy!” Harry groaned, rolling to the side and burying his face in the duvet as Louis sat up.

He shoved his fingers through his hair, stiff and sticky with product. He knew his quiff had been completely ruined by Harry’s fingers, long before he had time to mess it up himself. “Fuck, Harry…” he panted, burying his face in his hands. “You’re _so_ drunk!”

“You’re s’posed to be drunk, too,” he mumbled, into the comforter.

“I’m _leaving_ tomorrow _,_ Harry!”

“Stay.” It was barely a breath. Like if he didn’t say it any louder, he could deny he’d actually said it. That he’d actually begged Louis not to move away in pursuit of a career he’d worked so hard for.

“I can’t,” Louis managed in that same broken, barely there voice.

And then he pushed up off the bed and left the room.

 

The next morning, Louis moved to London. He packed all his boxes up into a moving truck and left Harry hungover in bed with a kiss on the cheek, a letter, and a gift wrapped in snowflake patterned paper and duct tape.

 

_Dear Harry,_

_Take care of Evie for me, okay? Tell her every day how much I love her and miss her and don’t let her forget her favorite father._

_I got you this camera, so you could send me photos. Please use it? I don’t want to miss a single day. Obviously you already have a camera, and an iPhone. But I thought your hipster arse would enjoy a vintage one as well. You’ll have to get them developed and actually mail me prints. Figured you’d love that._

_Love you,_

_Lou_

 

**2016**

“I forgot you cut your hair.”

Harry turned at the sound of his best friend’s voice, and reached for his bare neck with a self conscious smile. “It’s been months,” he chuckled.

“I’m still not used to it.”

“I don’t know if I am, either,” he admitted with a wince.

“Stop,” Louis reached for his hand, pulling it from his hair -- or lack thereof. “You look amazing.”

Harry’s cheeks warmed, and he dropped his gaze to Louis’ shoes. He’d dressed festively in red Vans for Christmas. The socks that separated the tops of his shoes from the bottom of his cuffed black skinny jeans, were red with pot leaves on the ankle, strung with lights like a Christmas tree. “Look at you, Father Christmas.” He giggled, toeing Louis’ ankle bone with the tip of his gold boot.

“Niall keeps sending me socks with pot leaves on them, and I can’t wear them at school,” he laughed.

“He sent me these last week,” Harry grinned, lifting his ankle and tugging up the bottom of his jeans far enough to reveal the pink poodle adorning his own ankle. “He says my hair is back to the poodle stage.”

“It is not!” Louis frowned, legitimately offended on Harry’s behalf, it seemed.

“Without a blowdryer and massive amounts of product, it is,” he laughed. “Relax, I love them.”

“Where’s my poodle!” Niall’s Irish twang rang out from the direction of the front door.

“Kitchen!” Harry shouted with a grin.

A moment later, Niall appeared in the doorway with a bottle of whiskey in one hand and a wrapped gift in the other. “And my little hedgehog, too!” He beamed, pulling them both into his arms.

“Hedgehog?” Louis scoffed.

“I missed you boys!”

“Missed you too, my little leprechaun,” Harry murmured, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

Louis’ hand slid from his shoulder as they pulled out of their group hug and settled in the dip of his waist for a moment before Niall stepped back and brought his gift up between them, forcing them apart.

“Here! Open it!” he exclaimed.

“It’s not Christmas for three more days!” Harry laughed, accepting the parcel with both hands.

“You’ll need it tonight, though, I promise!” Niall insisted. “You’ll be so disappointed if you open it Christmas morning, after all the festivities are over.”

“Fine,” Harry chuckled, tearing at the paper eagerly. “Film!” he beamed when he revealed three boxes, taped together with snowman patterned duct tape.

 _“Twelve_ rolls, since you complain _every month_ that you’re out!”

Harry’s eyes darted to Louis for the briefest second, but he wasn’t fast enough.

“You’ve been using it?!” he exclaimed.

“Of course, I have!” Harry scoffed.

“You never told me,” Louis replied, crossing his arms defensively. “Your thank you card must’ve been lost in the mail.”

Harry rolled his eyes and gave Louis a little shove. “Fuck off, I brought it with me every time I visited you.”

“Yeah, and each time I only saw you take like, one photo,” Louis deadpanned. “I spent the last year thinking you hated it, and only brought it with you so I wouldn’t know.”

“Are you kidding?” Niall laughed, “The thing never leaves his hand! He had to replace the strap twice, already.”

“Oh look, Liam’s here! I should go help him with the tree.” He made a hasty escape, ignoring Louis’ shouts as he hurried out into the cold night air to help Liam unload the Christmas tree he’d stolen from his office after the company holiday party.

Last year’s party had been such a bust -- even beside his disastrous attempt at seducing Louis before he left him for the big city -- with his lame attempt at party games that got ignored and karaoke that literally five people participated in before someone turned on a spotify playlist and even then, nobody danced. As far as a Farewell Party for Louis went, it was a complete bust.

This year, Harry was trying for something a bit more mature. He had several Christmas themed cocktails lined up, more mature activities -- such as decorating cookies and Liam’s stolen tree. He’d spent weeks putting together a playlist that had the perfect mix of holiday tunes and great party music that worked well for dancing or just hanging out. And he had given himself a four drink limit in hopes of having a great evening with his best friends without drunkenly trying to seduce any of them.

By the time the rest of his guests had arrived, and he and Liam had finally figured out the tree stand with tons of unhelpful advice from the peanut gallery, Louis and Niall were several shots of whiskey under.

Louis’ cheeks were flushed a pretty pink, and his eyes were crinkled with a permanent smile. He skipped around the living room with his hands bunched in the sleeves of his jumper, and Harry itched to pull out his camera. This is the Louis that he fell in love with. The one he had missed every day for the last year.

“When are you going to give him his gift?” Liam murmured at his shoulder as they watched Louis and Niall toss back another shot.

Harry huffed a laugh at his wince and shrugged. “I don’t know, he’s on his way to plastered already. Maybe I’ll just send it to his mum’s, and he can open it on his birthday.”

“I thought you wanted to watch him open it.”

“I do, but...” He gestured at Louis who was hanging from Niall’s shoulders, pressing his nose into his cheek as he slurred into his ear.

“Point taken.” Liam chuckled as they went for a high five, and Niall’s palm landed squarely on Louis’ forehead. “We’re in for a messy night with those two.”

“Just like Uni, all over again.” Harry rolled his eyes fondly. “I’ll take Louis, if you take Niall.”

“Just like Uni,” Liam agreed, offering a fist for Harry to bump.

Sure enough, by the time everyone was ready to decorate cookies, Louis and Niall had each downed at least three cups of the punch he’d prepared for the night -- Jingle Juice -- and Harry had lost count of how many times they’d disappeared to the kitchen for shots of Niall’s whiskey. That was where he found them when he went to get the cookie supplies ready.

“Harry!” Louis beamed, throwing his arms around his neck the minute he was within reach.

“Lou, hey. How are you doing?” He asked, rubbing circles in the small of his back. “You feeling okay?” The last thing he needed was Louis getting sick when everybody was thinking about cookies.

“Yes! Feeling good. Really good.” He nodded enthusiastically. “Want some whiskey?”

“No, no, I’m okay. Want a cookie?” He asked, reaching for the tray of sugar cookies he’d prepared earlier that morning.

“Yes! Oh my god, I’m starving!” He exclaimed, taking the two cookies Harry offered. “I didn’t eat lunch today. Or dinner.”

“What did you have for breakfast?” Harry asked, narrowing his eyes at his best friend.

“Three cups of tea and a croissant!”

“No wonder you’re pissed already,” Harry rolled his eyes fondly. “Have another cookie.”

“HA!” Louis suddenly shouted, thrusting his cookies in Niall’s face, simultaneously spraying him with crumbs from the first cookie he’d shoved into his mouth in one piece. “I got cookies! He luffs me more!”

“‘Course he does,” Niall rolled his eyes.

“I’ll give you an extra cookie if you help me get all this to the living room,” Harry offered, arching an eyebrow at his Irish friend as he reached for one of the trays of cookie supplies.

“HA!” Niall shouted back into Louis’ face as he took the tray from Harry. “I get cookies too!”

“Haaarold!” Louis whined, burying his face in his back as he turned to pick up the second tray. “Whyyy?!”

“Everybody gets cookies Lou, c’mon. Let’s go decorate.”

The living room was an absolute disaster an hour later, but there were nearly a hundred frosted, sprinkled sugar cookies spread out on the coffee table. And Harry’s eyes couldn’t seem to leave the one Louis had silently placed in front of him.

He had forced Louis down next to him so he could supervise his over-enthusiastic arts and crafts skills, and he had loudly challenged Liam across the room to make a better cookie than him. But when he suddenly went quiet with concentration, Harry figured he was busy trying to kick Liam’s ass, as usual.

Until a heart shaped cookie with green icing smeared across the surface, and a messy white H scrawled in the middle was slid onto Harry’s plate without a word.

Harry’s chest tightened. “Come here,” He murmured, tugging on Louis’ sleeve. “Bring the cookie.”

He got up and left the living room without looking back. He knew Louis would follow. He stopped when he reached the coat closet in the hallway and reached inside to retrieve his favorite camera.

“You kept it!” Louis beamed.

“We talked about this already,” Harry laughed. “Of course I kept it! It was the best Christmas gift I’ve ever gotten, Lou.”

“I did good?” He asked with wide, bloodshot eyes.

“You did so good, love,” Harry promised. “Come here, so I can show you how much I love it.” He took Louis by the shoulders and repositioned him in front of the Christmas wreath on the front door before stepping back to frame his shot. “Hold up your cookie and gimme a smile.”

“It’s your cookie!” He corrected.

“Then hold up _my_ cookie and gimme a pretty smile.” He beamed.

Louis smiled so big his eyes scrunched shut and held his heart shaped H cookie up in front of his chest, slightly to the left. Over his own heart.

Harry snapped a photo and lowered the camera with a small smile. “You made me a cookie?”

“Of course, I did!”

“Why?” He asked, stepping forward to accept the offered cookie.

“Because I’ve missed you,” he pouted, looking up at Harry from under his long lashes.

“I miss you, too,” he sighed. _More than you know._

Louis opened his mouth to reply, when Niall came bounding down the hall trailing tinsel behind him. “Lou!” he shouted, “Phase two! We gotta go!”

Louis’ eyes widened in excitement before he pressed up on his toes, smacked a kiss to Harry’s cheek and fled to the kitchen with Niall, cackling all the way.

With a shake of his head, Harry hung his camera back up inside the closet and shut the door before rejoining his guests in the sprinkle-covered living room.

“Harry, babe!” A shout drew his attention the moment he entered the room. “Come here!”

His friend Jade from Uni was waving frantically from the love seat in the corner, and he made a beeline for her, only to be intercepted by Liam.

“Do you know where Lou and Niall disappeared to?” He asked.

“Fuck off, Payno! I had him first!” Jade shouted.

“Kitchen!” Harry threw over his shoulder as he continued on his way to his friend. He collapsed on the couch beside her, draping an arm across the back as he gave her his full attention. “What can I do for you, love?”

“My sister is pregnant.”

“Is she?!” he beamed, “When’s she due? Is it a boy or girl? Does she have a name picked out?”

Jade shook her head with a little smirk. “How’d you like to ask her yourself?” When Harry merely frowned in confusion, she continued. “She’s looking for someone to take maternity photos of her. Are you interested? She would pay you, obviously.”

“You’re joking! I’d--” Harry cut off when there was a loud crash in the kitchen followed by scrambling feet.

“Lou!” Liam shouted. “Fuck, Louis! Wake up!”

Harry was already halfway across the room. He vaulted over the back of the couch -- nearly kicking Nick in the head on his way -- and tumbled around the corner into the kitchen. The scene in front of him had his stomach rolling on sight.

“Louis!” he shouted, dropping to his knees on the floor beside him.

“He’s really bleeding, here, H.” Liam frowned, yanking a Santa tea towel from the oven handle. “We’ve got to get him to a doctor.”

“We can’t drive him! We’re pissed!” Niall exclaimed, squeezing Louis’ limp hand hard enough his knuckles were turning white.

“I’m not.” Harry dug into his pocket for his keys. “Try and get him up, I’ll bring my car around.”

He rushed out the front door and down the street, internally cursing himself for getting a flat without a designated parking space. He left the car in the middle of the road directly in front of his door, flashers on, and rushed back. Niall and Liam met him at the door with a barely conscious Louis draped between them, tea towel clutched to his head and a dozen concerned onlookers hovering in the hallway behind them.

“C’mon,” he directed, opening the passenger door of his car. “Get him in here. Tell everyone they can stay as long as they want. I’ll probably be gone a while.”

“Take care of Lou, we’ll handle the guests,” Niall scoffed, giving his shoulder a squeeze as he got out of Liam’s way and let him buckle Louis in.”

“Text us. Let us know how he is,” Liam ordered as he backed out of the doorway and shut it gently on Louis.

“Will do. Thanks for--” Harry gestured vaguely over his shoulder towards his guest-filled flat as he rounded the hood of his car.

“Don’t worry, go!” Niall insisted.

 _“Drive safe!”_ Liam added loudly.

“Ugh, Harry?” Louis groaned when he joined him in the car.

“Hey, love. How’s your head?” He asked, sparing him a glance as he put the car in drive.

“I’m bleeding.” He frowned. “Why?”

“You fell, I think.” Harry frowned. “What were you doing?”

“I fell.”

“Yeah, Lou. Do you remember how?” Harry asked, his worry increasing about tenfold at the prospect that Louis didn’t remember the incident. He made a mental note to text Liam and ask what the fuck even happened the minute they reached A&E.

Louis gasped, and Harry glanced over to find him staring at the blood soaked towel in his hands.

“Lou, no. Put it back,” he ordered as gently as he could manage as he guided Louis’ hand back to the oozing wound on the side of his head. “Hold it there, firmly.”

“It hurts…” he whined.

“I know, love,” Harry dropped his hand to his knee and squeezed reassuringly. “Just keep pressure on it, yeah? The doctors will fix you up so soon, I promise!”

Louis winced as the car hit a pothole and his free hand found Harry’s on his knee, squeezing his fingers.

Harry twisted his hand around and threaded his fingers through Louis’, giving him another reassuring squeeze when he whined pitifully. “I know, love. I know,” he murmured.

 

It turned out, when you come into A&E with a bleeding head wound, you get seen fairly quickly. Like, they were only in the waiting room for an hour and a half before a nurse escorted them to a private room. And it only took another forty-five minutes before a doctor was available to see them. And the woman in the next room only screamed nine times in those forty-five minutes.

As far as midnight Emergency trips went, it was largely successful.

Not to mention, Harry didn’t half mind the ninety minutes in the waiting room with Louis’ head on his shoulder. It gave them time to catch up. It took a little coaxing, but eventually Louis remembered that he and Niall had a surprise planned for Harry, and Phase Two, was to decorate his kitchen with tinsel. He was climbing the cabinets when his foot slipped, and he’d gone tumbling to the floor.

“What was Phase Three?” Harry asked, shoving the worry aside in favor of keeping Louis awake and talking.

“Get you alone,” Louis smirked sleepily.

“You had me alone in the hall when you decided it was time for Phase Two.”

“Not the same.” He shook his head.

“You’ve got me alone now,” he pointed out with a small smile.

“Noooo…” he whined. “We had a plan.”

“You know, if you wanted me alone, all you had to do was ask for your birthday gift,” Harry murmured into his soft hair.

Louis sat up quickly, only to groan and lie his head back down on Harry’s shoulder. “You got me a present?”

“Of course, I did,” he scoffed, picking at the drying blood in Louis’ hair absentmindedly. The gushing had stopped, but Harry was fairly sure he had a concussion. He would probably need stitches.

“When can I have it?”

“In the morning.”

“Can I stay with you, tonight? I can go to Niall’s, if you’d rather.”

“I think he’ll be at mine,” Harry murmured, dropping his arm to Louis’ shoulder and squeezing him a bit tighter. “And I want you at mine, too.”

 

By the time they arrived back home, Niall and Liam were passed out on the couches. The cookie mess was cleaned up, the tree had been decorated, and the fire was dying in the hearth.

“C’mon, love. Let’s go to bed,” Harry whispered, tugging on Louis’ sleeve as he headed for his bedroom.

“I can’t kick you out of your bed, H.” Louis yawned, even as he hooked his pinky with Harry’s and followed along.

“You’re not,” he promised. “I’m supposed to wake you up every hour. I’ll be right next to you.”

A small, content hum met Harry’s ears as he gave Louis a gentle shove in the direction of the bed.

 

“Harry! Noooo!” Louis groaned for the eighth time, when Harry tried to wake him up for the eighth time in so many hours.

“I thought you wanted your gift?”

Louis cracked one eye to glare at Harry in the glow of the late morning sun streaming through the window.

“I let you have a full eight hours, first,” he reasoned. “Anymore than that, and you’ll turn into a sloth.”

“I like sloths,” he hummed, letting his eyes droop shut again.

“They move so slow, algae grows on them, Lou. _Algae!”_

“Alright, alright!” He yawned, dragging himself into a reclined position against the headboard. “I’m up. Where’s my gift?”

“How’s your head?” Harry asked, ignoring him as he dropped Evie in Louis’ lap.

Louis immediately cradled her to his chest with both hands, pressing a kiss to her soft little head. “I’m hungover, _and_ it has an actual, physical hole in it, at the moment. And I’ve had a BFG waking me up every sixty minutes. Guess.” His voice came out softer than it would have, if not for the cat in his arms.

“I brought you some ice water,” Harry offered, turning to retrieve the glass from his nightstand. “Do you want some painkillers?”

“I want the Christmas gift I was promised,” he grumbled even as he accepted the sweating glass, allowing Evie to curl up in his lap.

“Drink up,” Harry ordered, pushing off the mattress and heading over to his dresser where he’d left Louis’ gift the previous day.

Louis’ eyes followed him as he returned, climbing back under the covers and settling in against the headboard. Louis curled easily into his side and traded the glass of water for the parcel wrapped in green foiled paper.

“You even put a bow on it,” he cooed, ruffling its edges.

“I did.”

He chewed his lip as he watched Louis shred the paper, revealing the lovely black leather album he’d spent weeks searching for. **2016** was embossed on the cover in gold foil.

“What the fuck is this?” Louis pondered rhetorically as he flipped the covered open.

The first photo in the album was labeled with an actual old-school library date stamp that read _25 December 2015._ It was a photo of Harry and Gemma posing between the brick fireplace in their mother’s living room, and the Christmas tree strung with popcorn and decorated with ornaments they’d both made throughout their childhood. Macaroni stars and glittery angels and salt-dough gingerbread men. They were wearing matching red and white striped pajamas and sporting identical dimpled grins.

The second photo, beside the first, was date stamped _26 December 2015._ It was a beautiful photo of Anne, draped sideways in an armchair by her living room window, snoozing peacefully with her cat, Dusty, curled up on her chest. The sun was streaming in through the window casting a golden halo all around her.

There were two more photos below that, which Louis studied quietly before turning the page. He gasped at the photo of Evie perched on the back of the couch, nose pushed between the blinds as she stared out at the front steps. There was a green, circular sticker with a sad face on it, stuck to the plastic sleeve over the corner of that photo.

“What’s this?” Louis asked, tracing the face with his index finger.

“A sad face,” Harry murmured. “I missed you that day. But apparently Evie missed you more.”

Louis turned and arched an eyebrow at him.

“She sat up there like that a lot for the first few weeks,” he explained quietly.

Louis frowned down at the cat purring softly against his bellybutton. He stroked a thumb down her white nose, swallowing loudly before his gaze wandered back to the album.

He grinned at the photo of Harry with a gold glittery top hat perched crookedly on his head in one photo, then cracked and crushed on the sidewalk in the next, on _31 December_ and _1 January_. He turned the page and shook his head at the next collection of photos. All meticulously dated.

On the ninth page, labeled _29 January_ , there was a photo of Harry, Niall, and Liam on the train on their way to London. There were three stickers stuck to that photo, green, orange and red. Each with a massive happy face.

“You took one photo every day for a year?” Louis whispered, thumbing the edge of the album.

“I have one more roll to develop still. I finished it last night. But yes.” He smiled.

“Why would you do that?” He asked, voice hoarse.

Any answer Harry could have come up with was interrupted by the doorbell.

“That’ll be your mum.” He cleared his throat.

“My _mum?”_

“I talked to her last night,” he explained as he got out of bed and pulled on a pair of pajama pants and a T-shirt. “She said she’d take the train down and drive your car home. You shouldn’t be driving with a concussion.”

Louis huffed.

Harry answered the door, hugging Jay tight and inviting her inside. He led her through to his bedroom where Louis had only rolled over, curling his body around Evie’s on the mattress.

“Oh, love. How are you feeling?” Jay sighed, dropping down on the edge of the mattress and running a hand through his hair, pushing it aside to examine his stitches.

“Like I’ve been hit by a train.” He sighed, planting a kiss on Evie’s nose.

“I’m going to go start breakfast,” Harry murmured from the door. He knew when he wasn’t needed, and right now, Jay and Louis needed each other, more than either of them needed him. “Maybe we can settle your stomach before your drive.”

He slipped out, padding through the living room, past Liam and Niall’s sleeping forms and headed for the kitchen where he knew he had a package of bacon and a dozen eggs.

Between stirring his scrambled eggs and flipping bacon, Harry boxed up a couple dozen of the sugar cookies that had been left over from the party. He had just set them aside for Jay when he heard a shout from the living room, followed by two deep groans and a soft _Louis!_

Louis and his mum joined him in the next moment, Jay shaking her head fondly while Louis wore a smug smile. He also wore a large pair of joggers and a lavender jumper that Harry recognized immediately.

“Breakfast is ready.” Harry smiled, bringing his platter of eggs and bacon to the table. “Tea? Coffee? Juice?”

“I’ll make some tea,” Louis offered quietly, shuffling across the vinyl floor on the heels of his stolen joggers.

Liam joined them at the table just as they sat down to eat, and Niall shuffled in five minutes later dropping into Harry’s lap, scooping a helping of eggs into Harry’s plate, and stealing Harry’s fork without a word.

Harry was definitely imagining the way Louis’ eyes flared when Harry wrapped his arms around his middle and rested his head on his shoulder. Definitely.

 

He walked Louis and Jay to Louis’ car down the block after breakfast, hugging them each tightly.

“Don’t let Evie pout about me,” Louis pouted as they separated.

“Maybe you shouldn’t have cuddled her so well this morning, then.” Harry attempted a smirk that definitely fell short. It felt like they had left so much unsaid.

“And don’t you pout about me, either,” he warned.

“You definitely shouldn’t have spooned me all night, then,” he breathed.

Louis dropped his gaze to the sidewalk for a moment before lifting it back up to meet Harry’s uncertainly. “Can I maybe, come back? After Christmas? Before I go home?”

“You know you’re welcome, any time, Lou,” Harry sighed, squeezing his hand. “I’ll be here.”

“Okay.” He nodded. “And, thank you. For my gift. I love it, Harry, honestly. And for taking care of me last night. I’m sorry I ruined your party.”

“You didn’t. Never,” Harry assured him. “Now go, before I start pouting about your leaving!”

“I’ll come back next week,” he whispered, leaning up to press a kiss to the hinge of Harry’s jaw. “I promise.”

 

He didn’t come back the next week.

 

**2017**

“This place is nice...” Zayn commented as they approached the glossy white door to Harry’s new flat.

“Yeah,” Louis agreed, the elevator had a mirror for fuck’s sake. “Posh.”

“Give it a few years, and we’ll be teaching his kids.” Zayn smirked as Louis’ fist connected with the door.

They exchanged a glance before dissolving into giggles at the thought, just as the door flung open and Harry’s beaming face greeted them.

“MERRY CHRISSS—“ his smile twitched so minutely, Louis was sure nobody else on the planet would have caught it. He recovered quickly though, bless him. “—MAS!”

“Merry Christmas.” Louis grinned as butterflies took flight in his abdomen.

“You’ve brought a _friend!”_ Harry beamed, emphasizing the last word as he extended a hand towards Zayn. “I’m Harry. I don’t believe we’ve been introduced.”

“Zayn.” He nodded politely, removing his hand from the small of Louis’ back to shake Harry’s. And, that, Harry noticed.

“Come in, come in! Make yourselves a drink!” He insisted, stepping back to allow them to pass.

“Thanks, Haz,” Louis smiled, stopping to press a kiss to his cheek before leading Zayn inside.

Harry’s photography hobby had morphed into a freelance business early in the year, and grew quickly until he was able to quit his job at the bakery and work full time as a photographer. His new flat was evidence of his success. It was gorgeous. Definitely, no longer a lad pad.

His furniture matched, a new royal blue, tufted couch and loveseat and a gorgeous lucite coffee table. He had art on the walls and black and white photos framed on the mantle.

Everything was new and shiny. Even the twelve foot Christmas tree, wrapped with twinkling white lights standing in the corner by the window was more impressive than anything they’d ever had together.

And of course he’d decorated. Apart from the tree, he had tinsel draped over every possible surface, fake snow on the edges of every windowsill, rainbow twinkle lights framing the large windows and french doors that led to the balcony. He even had a corner set up for a photobooth, with red and green fringe streamers and gold mylar balloon letters spelling out HO!HO!HO!

“LOUEH!” He dragged his eyes away from the HOs and turned to find Niall waving from the kitchen island overlooking the living room. Leave it to Harry I-used-to-be-a-baker Styles to love an open floor plan.

“Nialler!” He exclaimed, dragging Zayn across the room. He tackled Niall in a bone crushing hug before smacking a kiss to his scruffy cheek and pulling back to make introductions. “Niall, this is Zayn. He teaches art at my school.”

“You brought a date.” Niall’s right eyebrow twitched nearly imperceptibly, as he shook Zayn’s hand. “It’s lovely to meet you, mate,” he added to Zayn with a genuine smile.

“You too.” He gave Niall that coy smile that had all their female coworkers drooling over him at every staff meeting. “He never shuts up about you lot; it’s great to put names to faces.”

“Oi! I do, too!” Louis squawked.

There was a slamming of doors before Liam stumbled around the corner from what looked like a hallway. He grumbled, throwing a glare over his shoulder before turning. His entire face transformed at the sight of Louis into that beautiful crinkly-eyed smile that could melt even coldest, deadest heart. He yanked Louis into his hard chest, circling him in strong arms and crushing the breath out of him.

“Fuck, Payno, if you get any bigger you’ll crush me!” Louis panted, massaging his ribs when he was finally released. “Lay off the gym, will you?”

“Missed you, too, Tommo.” He rolled his eyes, reaching past Niall for a fancy champagne flute. “What are we drinking, bud?” He asked, squeezing Niall’s shoulder and holding out his glass expectantly.

“Sparkly champagne?” He offered, tipping his own cup to glance inside.

“Isn’t champagne always sparkling?” Zayn asked with a small amused smirk.

“Not sparkl _ing!”_ Niall shook his head, passing his glass across the island, “Sparkl- _y!”_

 _“Is that glitter?”_ Louis exclaimed, gaping at the contents of the glass before handing it off to Zayn and turning to shout, “You’ve gone too far this time, Styles!”

“Where did he go?” Niall asked looking around the living room/kitchen curiously.

“Think he went to change,” Liam mumbled.

The doorbell rang, then, and Niall took off to answer it.

“I’m gonna go check on Harry.” Louis shot Liam a look that said, _Take care of my friend,_ before slipping away without allowing himself to think about it too much.

He hadn’t been to Harry’s flat before that night, but he had a feeling he’d find him down the hallway Liam had emerged from looking disgruntled just moments ago.

He heard a thump from behind the second door on the right, and headed inside without knocking. He shut the door behind him with a soft click, and then turned to inspect Harry’s new bedroom.

The bed was definitely an upgrade from the double they’d shared last Christmas, and the grey, tufted headboard, against the lavender accent wall was just _so Harry._ Other than the bed, it was very minimal. Just a white dresser against the opposite wall, and in the far corner, sat the only thing that remained from their old life together. The green velvet armchair Louis had bought in a charity shop when they got their first flat together right out of Uni, with a fluffy white throw blanket folded neatly over its arm. It was their first piece of furniture. And Harry had kept it.

There was a collection of picture frames on top of the dresser, and Louis moved forward to examine them.

There was one of the four of them from Uni, arms wrapped around each other and smiles, so young and pure. Then there was one of Harry with his mum and Gemma. And one of Evie.

And the fourth was of him. Of course, it was. Even though he hardly remembered posing for it, he’d seen it a hundred times. He’d received a copy of it in the mail back in January, after he’d called Harry to cancel his visit.

He’d received a phone call the day after Christmas from the school he’d been subbing at off and on for a year. The new History teacher they’d just hired had backed out of the job at the last minute. It was a job he’d applied for. Interviewed for. _Hoped for._ And it was given to someone else.

But apparently Louis had been their second choice. He should have been thrilled. Instead, he’d been stressed beyond belief. He had two weeks to get ready for his very own class. Lesson plans and supplies and curriculum and — and he was their second choice. He felt the need to prove that he could be better than old what’s-her-face who’d backed out. That he should have been their _first_ choice.

He stared at the photo of himself, remembering all the unsaid words that had been swimming around his head that night. Words like _kiss me_ , and _fuck me_ and _come home with me._ He shook his head at that heart-shaped H cookie, held up over his own heart and scoffed. It was all part of the plan to seduce Harry that had gone horribly wrong when he'd cracked his skull open.

Another thump drew his attention to what he assumed was the closet. Glass paned French doors stood on one wall with sheer, white curtains blocking Louis' view of the interior. They didn’t, however, mask Harry's deep voice grumbling and swearing inside.

Without warning or invitation, Louis opened the door, and the scene he found in front of him, was one he'd missed every day for the past two years.

Harry was standing in the middle of his walk in closet in only a pair of tight black briefs and a pair of blue socks with what looked like snow penises patterned across them. Discarded clothes dotted the floor around him, and his hands were planted on his hips as he stared at his wardrobe with a petulant frown creasing his brow.

"Not that I'm complaining, mind you," Louis began, startling Harry out of his reverie. "But where exactly did your clothes disappear to?"

"I've got nothing to wear," Harry sighed.

"What happened to what you were wearing five minutes ago, when you answered the door?" He laughed. "You looked great."

Harry scoffed and turned back to his wall of hangers.

"Honestly, that blouse was beautiful," Louis insisted, recognising Harry's need for affirmation, even after two years largely spent apart. "The red flowers were so pretty and delicate, but festive at the same time. And the sheer material was..." he trailed off with a single, slow shake of his head, which seemed to draw Harry's attention even more than the compliments he was spewing.

"Was...?" he asked, turning to arch a curious brow at Louis.

"Sexy," he managed.

Harry's cheeks tinged pink and he ducked his head.

"Why did you suddenly decide to change?" Louis pressed. "I thought you looked fantastic. Prefect."

Harry shrugged. "Just didn't feel like I was dressed to impress, I suppose."

"You’re definitely going to impress him dressed like _this,"_ Louis smirked, gesturing at Harry's mostly naked body.

Harry frowned. "Him, who?"

"Whoever you're trying to dress for," Louis attempted a casual shrug. "I know you better than that, H. If you're panicking about wardrobe, there's a guy involved." He swallowed around the lump that formed in his throat at the mere thought, and pretended he wasn't dying inside.

"So how long have you and Zayn been... a thing?" He asked, swerving Louis’ curious prying, in favor of doing some of his own.

"He asked me out on the first day of school, after summer.”

"You've been dating for nearly half the year, and this is the first I've heard of it?" The hurt reflecting in Harry's eyes nearly had Louis confessing everything, but his naked chest and the thought of him trying to impress a man that wasn't him, was enough to keep his mouth shut.

"I mean, I wouldn't exactly say we’re _dating_." He smirked filthily. “We’ve just been hanging out...”

It was the truth. He and Zayn weren’t dating. Zayn had asked him out, and he’d politely turned him down. But they _had_ been hanging out since then. They’d become friends. Good enough friends that he had conned him into coming to Manchester with him for the weekend, for his best friends annual Christmas party.

He might not be interested in dating Zayn, but he did have eyes. The man was gorgeous. And if a part of him hoped that Harry’s eyes noticed the same thing, he didn’t see the harm in that. He wasn’t _lying_. Even if he wasn’t clarifying the truth when Harry made incorrect assumptions.

“You didn’t tell me you were bringing a _friend.”_ Again, he emphasized the word, as if challenging it.

“I didn’t really plan on it,” Louis shrugged, leaning against the doorframe in a convincing act of nonchalance. “He’s from Bradford. He was planning on taking the train home tomorrow, and I figured, since I’m passing right by, why not?”

“Sure, why not?” He agreed as he turned back to his clothes and crossed his arms.

“Come here,” Louis sighed, hooking his hand through Harry’s elbow and leading him out of the closet. “Sit there.” He gave him a little shove onto the bed, before turning back to the closet.

“What are you doing?” Harry called from the bedroom.

“Picking out your outfit for you since you obviously can’t be trusted.”

“And you can be?!” He exclaimed. “You’ve worn Vans everyday for the last six years.”

“Firstly, I happen to like them, so fuck off.” He rolled his eyes. “Secondly, I have to wear dress shoes and a tie every day for work, I deserve to wear something comfortable when I come home.”

“You have to wear a tie?” The tone of surprise in Harry’s voice caused Louis’ lips to curve up as he picked through the silky blouses and designer jeans hanging on the rail. “Do you have to wear slacks and all?”

“I told you, it’s a posh private school. The students wear uniforms and everything.”

“Sounds like the kind of place you would hate, if I’m honest.” His deep chuckle made Louis’ stomach flip flop, as usual.

“That’s actually how Zayn and I bonded in the beginning,” Louis remembered. “We’re always just talking shit about all the spoiled rich kids complaining about their holidays in Mykonos over the summer.”

“How romantic.”

The bitterness in Harry’s voice surprised him, just a little. Was this whole jealousy tactic actually working?

“Here we go!” Louis exclaimed when his fingers brushed the sleeve of a gorgeous red blouse.

“What is it?” Harry asked, voice back to it’s usual level of morbidity.

Louis tugged a pair of white jeans off the hanger and turned back to Harry. “Here you go.” He held them out in offering, “You’ll be like a sexy Santa.”

Harry took the blouse, holding it up to inspect it before nodding and setting it aside. “I can’t wear those jeans, though.”

“Why not?” Louis frowned, surprised by the disappointment he felt at the prospect.

“They’re just… tight.” He shrugged.

“Are you trying to impress people, or not?” Louis smirked challengingly.

Harry’s cheeks turned a pretty pink as he sighed and got to his feet. “Fine, but--”

“What are you doing?!” Louis exclaimed.

Harry froze with his boxers pushed down over the curve of his ass in the back and frowned at Louis. “I can’t wear _white jeans_ with _black pants_ , Lou.”

“You could have waited until--” He cut off when the bedroom door opened without warning.

“What the fuck’s taking you so--” Liam froze, wide-eyed at the sight of Harry’s bare ass facing the door. “Erm, we’ll just be out here, actually. Take your time!”

It wasn’t until the door was slamming behind him, that Louis spotted Zayn at Liam’s shoulder.

“That’ll be difficult to explain…” Harry chuckled without an ounce of apology in his voice.

“Get dressed,” Louis sighed. “I’ve got to use the toilet.”

He retreated quickly to the en suite and bent over the sink to take a couple of deep breaths. He’d seen Harry naked before, of course he had. They’d lived together for three years before he moved to London, and Harry was practically a nudist at home! But he hadn’t seen Harry naked since they’d kissed for the first time two years ago.

And somehow that made all the difference.

He splashed some water on his face before emerging as Harry adjusted his collar in the mirror over the dresser.

“How do I look?” He asked, turning to face Louis head on.

“Like a sexy Santa,” he smiled, eyeing the expanse of bare chest between the buttons he hadn’t bothered to fasten. “Very impressive!” He added when Harry lifted his arms and twirled, showing off his perky little bum. He was right, the jeans were _tight._ “C’mon, let's get out there before all your friends give up on you.”

In the fifteen or twenty minutes they were hiding in Harry’s closet, at least a dozen of his guests had arrived. The kitchen island was surrounded by people pouring themselves Sparkly Champagne, and Louis squeezed in between Liam and Zayn to claim a beverage of his own.

“I can’t believe you put glitter in champagne, Haz.” He rolled his eyes as he accepted a glass from Zayn with a murmured, _Thanks, babe._

“I didn’t put it in there myself! I bought it that way!” He laughed.

“Fame has changed you.” Louis shook his head inspecting the gold shimmers in his pink drink. “You used to drink store brand cranberry juice with cheap vodka.”

“It’s Christmas, Lou! Stop teasing me and chug!”

“I’m not chugging champagne,” Louis chuckled, taking a tentative sip. “What do you have to eat?”

“Charcuterie,” Zayn smirked, gesturing to the cheese board filled with various meats, cheeses, fruits and crackers.

Louis snorted into his drink and turned wide, mirth-filled eyes on Zayn. “We should definitely leave the vicinity.” He giggled, tugging Zayn’s sleeve away from the kitchen.

“Where are you going?” Harry called after them.

“Snooping!” Louis yelled over his shoulder.

“Didn’t do enough of that already?” Zayn murmured, pressing his chest to Louis’ shoulder as they made a beeline for the balcony.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Zayn didn’t respond until they were leaning over the edge of the railing staring at the traffic lights eight stories below. “You looked like you were getting somewhere when we interrupted,” he shrugged casually.

“He was just changing.” Louis shook his head, leaning into Zayn’s side in an attempt to absorb some of his body heat.

Zayn took the hint and wrapped an arm around him, pulling him closer into his side, hand settling on the curve of Louis’ hip. “If the view from the front was anything like the back, I don’t blame you for wanting him.”

“It’s not — I mean, I don’t—“

“It’s more than that,” Zayn nodded in understanding. “I figured.”

“What do you mean?”

“You begged me to come to this party with you, and then the two of you immediately ran off to his bedroom for twenty minutes the minute we walked in the door.”

“He ran off first,” Louis scoffed. “I just went to find him.”

Zayn sighed heavily and shook his head. “Alright, you want to make him jealous?”

Louis’ eyes snapped up to Zayn’s dark ones, at that. “What?”

“That’s why you brought me, yeah?” He shrugged. “You wanted to make him jealous?”

Louis winced and ducked his intense gaze. “Was it that obvious?”

“Come here,” he murmured, turning to face Louis, gently touching his chin with one finger. He lifted Louis’ face until he was looking up into Zayn’s eyes again, and smirked a little. “Is he watching?”

Louis frowned for a moment, glancing over Zayn’s shoulder to the window. Harry was sitting on the couch between Perrie and Jesy, obviously pretending to listen, when in reality he was staring out the window, right at the two of them.

“Yeah, he’s looking,” he murmured, shaking with the cold.

The next moment, Zayn’s pouty lips were pressing against his in a soft, chaste kiss. He lingered for just a little longer than Louis expected before pulling back just enough to mumble against his lips. “How about now?”

A smile tugged at Louis’ lips as he glanced over Zayn’s shoulder again, only to find the girls scooted a bit closer together, and Harry back in the kitchen pouring another drink.

“Looks like you know what you’re doing, Mr. Malik.” He huffed a laugh against Zayn’s lips before taking a half step back, so he could look at his friend without going cross eyed. “I’m sorry I dragged you along for this.”

“I’m not.” He shrugged. “I would have appreciated a warning, maybe. But I don’t mind…”

“Really?” Louis narrowed his eyes uncertainly.

Zayn sighed. “Okay, let’s make a deal. I’ll let you make it up to me.”

“How?”

“I’ll help you out tonight. I’ll do everything I can to help you make him jealous,” he promised. “If it works, I’ll pay for your first date.”

“Why would you do that?” Louis scoffed.

“Because if it doesn’t work, you’ll agree to give me a chance.”

“A chance?”

“You’ll let _me_ take you out on a date. Whatever happens after that is up to you, a hundred percent.”

“You want to go on a date with me?” Louis blinked. His head was spinning.

“I’ve wanted to go on a date with you since the first day we met, Lou,” he deadpanned.

“I didn’t know you _still_ wanted to date me! I wouldn’t have—“

“But you did. And I’m here. So use me tonight, and if it doesn’t work, let me take you out.”

Louis chewed on his lip for a moment, glancing inside to where Harry was showing Niall his socks with a grin that split his face in two. “Okay,” he nodded. “If it doesn’t work, I’ll go on a date with you.”

 

An hour later, Louis was frustrated. He was beginning to think he’d been hustled. The minute he’d agreed to a date with Zayn pending tonight’s success, Zayn had stepped back, turned, and walked back inside without a backward glance.

And that was how it had been ever since. Zayn flirted with Perrie, flirted with Liam, and amused Niall and Harry with stories of Louis at school. And Louis followed him around like a lovesick puppy.

“...so he’s trying to shove a summer sausage down my throat, and I shove him away _out of self defense_ and next thing we know, the whole damn tray is on the floor.”

“You’re joking!” Niall exclaimed, slamming a fist down on the marble island slab. “What did you do?”

“Picked it all up, put it back, and stayed as far away from the _charcuterie_ as possible for the rest of the night.” Zayn chuckled.

“You didn’t!” Liam’s disappointment was clear in his usually warm eyes. Only they weren’t directed at Zayn, who had confessed his own sins, instead — as usual — he was shaking his head at Louis.

“You know, there’s a pact somewhere, that says nothing of the sort ever happened.” He sounded bitter, he knew he did. But not only was Zayn almost completely ignoring him, _and_ telling stories they’d be _sworn_ they’d take to their graves, he was turning all Louis’ friends against him!!

“Aw, babe, pouting isn’t attractive,” Zayn smirked, lifting his glass to sip at his sparkly champagne.

“You can’t, actually, be surprised he nearly ruined a Christmas party, can you Li?” Harry asked, words even slower than usual. “It’s practically his specialty.”

Louis quirked his head to the side. “I think I’ve only ruined _one_ of your parties, haven’t I?”

Harry’s dimples popped, and he tossed back the rest of his drink before looping an arm round Louis’ shoulders. “Only joking, love,” he apologized, leaning in to smack a sloppy kiss to his temple.

_Was he though?_

“Harry,” Perrie called from the living room “When are we going to decorate the tree?”

“The tree!” He exclaimed excitedly, hurrying off. “Now! Let’s decorate!”

“Where’s the cookies?” Louis frowned.

“What cookies?” Niall asked, refilling Louis’ drink without prompting.

“Last year, we decorated cookies before we did the tree, remember?”

“Last year, we decorated cookies before you cracked your head open, and Harry missed decorating his tree, because he took you to A&E, _remember?”_ He smirked at Louis’ distress and clapped him on the shoulder. “He just wanted to make up for last year, Lou. And you missed it too, go on!”

“Fine,” he sighed, turning to address Zayn, only to find him gone, already helping to hang pink and gold Christmas bulbs from the limbs of the twinkling tree. The fucking traitor.

So Louis joined. Like the puppy he was, he joined Zayn in hanging bulbs on Harry’s tree, doing everything he could to appear semi-coupley with Zayn while _Zayn_ completely ignored him.

“I’m starting to feel like _I’m_ the one tagging along at _your_ friends party,” Louis pouted when Perrie dragged Zayn into the photobooth in glittery antler headbands.

“Don’t be jealous your friends like me better,” Zayn smirked, pressing a kiss to Perrie’s cheek for their first photo.

“I’m not!” Louis squawked, throwing a plastic bulb at him.

“Don’t be jealous we like your boyfriend better,” Niall laughed, jumping into the frame and wrapping his arms around the two of them just in time for the flash to go off again.

“It’s time for the star!” Harry suddenly shouted, tugging Liam off the ladder.

“Do you really think you should be climbing a ladder, mate?” Liam frowned.

But it was too late. Harry scrambled up the steps to the last rung before he swung one of those ridiculous Bambi legs over the top and planted his ass on the shelf labeled **DANGER! DO NOT STAND OR SIT**

“Harry, be careful…” Louis warned, stepping forward.

“Will everyone juss stop?” He slurred. “I’m fiiine!”

Louis’ stomach clenched with worry. He didn’t know where he’d been for the last hour or two, or how he’d missed Harry going from his usual loud, cheerful tipsy, to this petulant, sloppy mess, but seven years of friendship had trained him well for this moment.

He took another step forward, so he was at the bottom of the ladder now, staring up at his completely pissed best mate as he leaned forward to put the glittering gold star on top of the tree. Only he couldn’t quite reach.

“Harry, stop!” Liam shouted.

“Fuck,” Louis hissed under his breath, just before, in a moment of defiance, Harry lunged.

The ladder wobbled, and Louis reached for it, yanking it back to a solid stance on four legs. Only Harry didn’t come with it.

Plastic Christmas bulbs bounced across the hardwood floor even before the tree came crashing down. Louis reached for Harry, and had a brief flashback to another fall -- one year ago, almost to the day -- before both of them were sprawled on the floor.

Louis’ vision swam as they were surrounded, concerned faces suddenly hovering over them both.

“Are you okay?” Liam demanded, reaching for Louis who was clutching his head.

“Yeah, I’m good,” he nodded slowly, sitting up and checking his fingertips for blood. “Not bleeding this time, at least.” He turned to Harry who was groaning on the floor beside him. “Are you alright, love?”

“Don’t,” he sighed, covering his eyes with one hand.

“What?” Louis frowned, “C’mon, sit up,” he reached for Harry’s hands, tugging him up into a sitting position.

Liam took over from there, pulling Harry to his feet and dusting him off. “Are you alri--”

Harry was standing for a whole second before he doubled over and vomited on the floor at his own feet.

“Fuck,” Louis hissed, scrambling to his feet as Liam rushed Harry towards the hallway.

The rest of the guests began gathering their things as Louis headed for the kitchen in search of towels and cleaning supplies, trusting Liam to handle Harry for the moment.

“Hey, I’m gonna take off.”

Louis emerged from the cupboard under the sink to face Zayn. “Where are you going? I thought I was driving you home?”

“Perrie offered her couch for the night,” he shrugged. “Looks like you’ve got your hands full here.”

Louis deflated a bit. “Alright. I’ll, erm, call you when I get home next week, yeah?”

“Yeah,” he smiled. “Travel safe, yeah?”

“You, too,” Louis nodded, pulling him in for a quick hug.

By the time he got back to the living room, Niall had righted the tree and had begun rounding up the scattered ornaments with a broom.

“Are you two ever going to get your shit together?” He sighed as Louis knelt beside the puddle of sick.

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“I mean, you’ve been dancing around each other for ages.” He rolled his eyes. “Just tell him you’re in love with him, and get it done.”

“I _tried,_ Ni!” Louis frowned. “Last year, remember?”

“No, you tried to seduce him last year, and then wasted a night in his bed, only to dodge his calls for the next month.”

“I was not _dodging his calls!”_ Louis scoffed. “I was working my arse off to get caught up in a job I had a week to prepare for!”

“I know you were,” Niall sighed, dumping the last of the ornaments back into their box. “But once you got caught up--”

“Then Harry’s business started taking off,” Louis argued defensively. “He was busy every weekend! I saw him three times this entire year, Ni. We were both working like crazy all year; it wasn’t the right time to start something. Especially long distance.”

“Maybe,” he shrugged. “But showing up with a date and trying to make him jealous didn’t help matters any.”

“Clearly,” Louis deadpanned, getting to his feet. He threw his wad of kitchen roll in the bin and washed his hands before joining Niall at the tree where they re-hung all the ornaments that had been lost, working mostly in silence.

“This is the second tree I’ve decorated for Harold,” Niall commented as they finished up.

“Is he going to bring out another one next year, or do you think he’s pretty well over it now?” Louis asked, heading back towards the kitchen.

Before he could answer, they heard a door close in the hallway and turned toward the noise.

“Lou.” Liam stopped short in the doorway. “You’re still here.”

“Of course, I am,” Louis frowned. “I was just going to bring Harry some water.”

“I’ll get it,” Liam grunted, dodging Louis’ gaze as he squeezed past him. He pulled a glass down from the cupboard and began filling it, shoulders tense.

“I don’t mind. I wanted to go check in on him.”

“Don’t.”

Louis froze at the sharp command. “What? Why?”

Liam turned, “I think it would be better if you left, actually.” His tone wasn’t _cold_ per se, but it was not a suggestion.

“Why?” Louis’ voice was rising, “He’s my best friend. I just wanted to check on him.”

“I really think it would be better if you didn't, Lou,” Liam repeated, firmer.

“Fuck off,” he muttered, turning in the direction of the hallway. He hadn’t made it halfway there before Liam spoke up again, stopping him in his tracks.

“He doesn’t want to see you.”

“You don’t know that,” he managed around the lump that had suddenly taken up residence in his throat.

“He told me, Lou.” Liam sighed. “He’s not feeling well, and he’s upset. He just wants to be left alone, tonight. He’s not up for arguing.”

“I wasn’t going to argue with him!” Louis frowned, spinning to face his friend again. “Why would I--”

 _“He_ is upset with _you,_ Louis. Stop being so self-centered!”

Louis stepped forward, ready to argue with _Liam_ , only to collide with a firm hand on his chest.

“C’mon, Lou,” Niall murmured calmly. “Let’s get going. You can crash at mine tonight.”

“But, Harry,” he frowned.

“Give him the night. Call him tomorrow and talk things out when you’ve both had time to calm down and sober up.”

Liam stepped up then, reaching a big hand out to clutch Louis’ shoulder firmly. “He’s right, Lou. Whatever you want to say to Harry can wait until tomorrow. Let him recover a little first.”

“C’mon,” Niall smiled. “I took a cab. You can drive.”

All the fight left Louis in a whoosh of hot air. “Fine. I’ll call him tomorrow.”

 

With a hug from Liam and plans to call Harry the following day, Louis stayed with Niall that night. He texted Zayn and promised to pick him up in the morning and get him home to his family, and then, he made himself a bed on Niall’s couch.

He lay, staring at the ceiling for what felt like hours before finally caving and reaching for his phone.

**I hope you’re feeling okay. I forgot your gift in my car. Maybe we can meet up again before I go home?**

When he hadn’t received a reply by the time he dropped Zayn off in Bradford, he called Harry. It rang twice before it went to voicemail.

“Hey, love. I hope you’re feeling better this morning. I would have stayed to bring you some McDonald’s or something, but Liam kicked me out last night. I’m on my way back home now, but I’d love to bring your gift by on my way home next week if that’s alright? Erm, call me back, okay?”

Only Harry didn’t call him back.

And he didn’t answer when he called again the next day, or the next. In fact, it was over a month before Louis heard his best friend’s voice again. He called almost every day for five weeks, until the second of February, when Harry answered the phone.

“‘Lo?” his voice was deeper than usual, gravely.

“Harry!” Louis was _positive_ the surprise was clear in his voice.

“Mmm…” he hummed sleepily.

“Big night?” Louis chuckled. To be fair, it was early. He’d taken to calling Harry on his way in to school every morning, leaving him messages updating him on his life. School, his family, the traffic flow. Everything that wasn’t important. Everything that wasn’t Zayn.

“Dying.”

“Sounds like you had a good birthday, then?”

“Gonna be sick…” Harry mumbled, followed by a rumbling laugh in the background. He wasn’t alone.

“Are you home?” Louis frowned, ignoring the jealousy surging in his chest

“Mhmm…”

“Love, get up and drink some water, okay?”

“Mhmm…”

“I’ve got to go. I’m almost to school. Can I call you later?”

“Mhmm…”

Louis sighed. It may not be much, as far as conversation went, but he’d answered. That was a step in the right direction.

The minute he pulled into the parking lot at school, Louis put in an order with Uber Eats for a dozen Sausage Egg McMuffins from McDonald’s and had them sent to Harry’s flat with a note to ring the doorbell relentlessly until he answered.

An hour later, he got his first text from Harry in over a month (exactly a dozen blue heart emojis) and a week later, his yearly album came in the mail.

 

**2018**

“I don’t know why you keep throwing these parties,” Liam grunted from underneath the tree.

“It’s Christmas!” Harry squawked, just a little too aggressively. He squeezed his eye shut where a pine needle had just assaulted it and adjusted his hold on the trunk. “Are you almost done?”

“It’s a delicate procedure, Harold! I won’t let everything come crashing down again!”

“I won’t knock it over this year, Li. I promise.” He had a strict no alcohol rule this year. He’d followed a strict _Drink to celebrate, not to medicate_ rule since last Christmas, and since celebrating wasn’t quite the first thing on his mind this holiday season, he was staying away from the spiked cider.

Even though he had been smelling it stewing in the crockpot all afternoon.

“What kind of scheme do you have planned this year? It’s your turn, isn’t it?” Liam smirked once he’d rolled out from under the tree. “Should be secure,” he added, reaching for the trunk and giving it a good shake.

“I’m not planning anything,” Harry sighed, pushing his hair back out of his face. “He’s got Zayn.”

“It’s not going to last,” Liam shrugged.

“They’ve been together over a _year_ , Liam.”

“Doesn’t mean he loves him.” He sounded confident, but he didn’t have the whole story.

“There’s, erm, I might’ve neglected to tell you something…”

“What’s that?” Liam frowned.

“Zayn’s going to propose.”

Liam’s eyes bugged. “What?! When?”

“I don’t know. Any time now, I think.”

“How do you know?”

“He told me.”

“Harry?”

“No, _Zayn.”_

“When?”

“When I visited Lou, after Halloween.”

“He just told you?” Liam frowned. “Why would he do that?”

Harry shrugged. “I don’t know. He kind of… asked my approval?”

“What?!” Liam asked, _again._

“Kind of.” Harry sighed. “He said that my opinion means more to Lou than anybody else’s, and that he didn’t have a chance if Louis thought I hated him.”

“Why would Louis think you hated Zayn? You don’t hate him, do you?”

“No!” Harry insisted. “I _wish_ I did! But he’s just… he’s gorgeous and creative and smart. I can see why Louis loves him, even if I hate to admit it.”

“Louis doesn’t love him, though.”

“So that’s what I told him,” Harry continued, ignoring Liam. “I told him Louis was lucky to have found him, and that all I wanted was for Lou to be happy.”

“Harry…” Liam frowned sympathetically.

“I know.” He sighed.

“So you don’t have a scheme planned for tonight?” He asked again.

“Nope.”

“Does that mean you’re just going to get pissed and puke in your bed again? Because if so, I’m putting Niall on clean up duty this year.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “No, I’m not drinking tonight. I learned my lesson.”

“What are you going to do all night, then?”

“You know I didn’t take a single photo at last years party?”

“You had a photo booth!” Liam reminded him.

“Well that was a fucking disaster,” Harry scoffed. “But besides that. Not a single photo.”

“So you’re going to take photos?”

“Yeah,” Harry smiled. “I’ve got a plan. It’s supposed to snow. I want to take snowy photos in the garden.”

“Is that why you spent all morning putting up lights out there?”

“Nobody has seen my house, yet. I wanted to make a good impression!” Harry replied defensively. “The weather was just a plus.”

“I’ve seen your house,” Liam pointed out. “As usual, I’m the only one who was free to help you move. Can you _please_ stop moving when it’s freezing out?”

“As usual, you were the only one too nice to lie about being too busy to help me move.” Harry smirked. “And since you were too nice not to help me set up for the party, why don’t you start pulling out the cups and things?”

Liam huffed as he stalked off towards the kitchen, but Harry just rolled his eyes fondly and set about working on the white lights for the tree.

He was halfway done when he was interrupted by the doorbell.

“That’s Niall,” Liam called from the kitchen. “He’s locked out, can you go get him?”

“I’m busy!” Harry grunted, twisting away from the pine needles attacking him… again.

“I’ve got my hands full!”

“You fucker,” Harry scoffed, dropping the remaining lights on the floor and heading to answer the door. “Niall! I’m coming!” He shouted as he jogged down the hallway.

“Hurry up, it’s fookin’ freezing!” Niall called back, no doubt making a great impression on Harry’s new neighbors.

“Keep your shirt on, Jesus.” He laughed as he reached the door and swung it open. “Lou!” He knew his eyes were bugging, but he hadn’t expected to find Louis shivering on his doorstep beside Niall.

“Hey.” He smiled around chattering teeth. “You got a fire going in there?”

“Erm, yeah.” Harry glanced over his shoulder in the vague direction of his living room.

“Then get out of the way!” Niall exclaimed, shoving past.

Harry giggled as his back flattened against the open door and watched him tear through the house, shouting a greeting at Liam when he found him a moment later.

“Hey,” Louis’ soft greeting brought his attention back to the doorway. “Shut the door, you’re letting the heat out.”

Harry rolled his eyes fondly and moved aside to close the door, but Louis didn’t follow Niall inside. Instead, he pulled a potted, pink stargazer lily from behind his back.

“What’s this?” Harry beamed, accepting the offering.

“Housewarming gift,” Louis shrugged. “A welcome to the neighborhood, you know.”

“I love it,” he sighed, stroking a freckled petal between his thumb and forefinger. “They’re my favorite.”

“I know,” he chuckled. “And they’re not exactly easy to find in December, so don’t kill it!”

“I’ll do my best,” Harry grinned, shifting the pot to one hand before reaching out with the other. “Thank you, I love it.”

Louis stepped into his embrace, tucking his face into the crook of his neck as they squeezed each other tight.

“I’m really excited you’re here, H,” he murmured.

“Is that why it took you two weeks to drop by?” Harry teased as they parted. “Because you’re excited I finally made the move to London?”

“I’ve been busy!” Louis scoffed, shoving Harry. “I’ve had finals to grade and shit!”

“Yeah, yeah. C’mon, I’ll pour you a drink.” Harry nodded towards the kitchen. “Where’s Zayn?” He added as casually as he could manage. “Is he coming later?”

“Nah, he’s out of town.”

Before he could inquire further, Louis shoved past him and darted into the kitchen, leaping into Liam’s waiting arms.

 

Louis helped Harry finish the lights on the tree while Liam and Niall got the food together, and they finished just in time for the guests to start arriving.

It was a different crew this year, being in a different city, but Harry was excited to catch up with all of their Uni friends who had migrated south over the last several years. Louis definitely wasn’t alone in the city.

Ashton and Luke had moved down last year and had put a band together with a couple of other guys. They were having the time of their lives planning a mini tour through Australia for the summer.

Ed was the first to make the move, right out of Uni five years ago, and had opened a music shop two years ago. He got engaged last New Years and was in the midst of wedding plans. Adam and his wife had bought a house and had their second child this year. And Nick had his own show on Radio1 for fuck’s sake.

Everyone was growing up, getting adult jobs and starting families.

Louis would be next, he supposed. Next to get married. Maybe he’d even start a family after that. He’d always wanted kids. “Like eight of them,” as he’d always said.

Harry shook his head to rid himself of those thoughts. He couldn’t go down that road again. Not tonight. He just wanted to have fun and catch up with his friends. He just wanted to get through _one party_ without incident. Was that too much to ask?

 

“He’s in Italy for a custom fitting with Gucci, actually.” The sound of the shutter caught Louis’ attention, and he turned, narrowing his eyes at Harry who smirked around his camera.

"I thought you only used that camera for your daily photos?" He asked, abandoning his conversation with Luke to join Harry by the fire. "Or have you stopped that? I guess you would have, after so long, yeah? It's been three years, after all." He rambled.

"I got it finished this morning," Harry grinned. "I got my film developed and wrapped it all up this afternoon."

"You did?" Louis asked, tilting his head to one side with a soft smile.

"You said you didn't want to miss a day," Harry reminded him. "I could have given up two weeks ago if you had bothered to stop by."

"I'm here now, aren't I?"

Harry's teasing smile turned soft to match Louis'. "Yeah, you are."

"Harry, hey," Ed grinned, clapping him on the shoulder as he and Niall joined them. "You finally did it, then?"

"Finally did, yeah," he chuckled, nodding along with his friend.

"Well, welcome to London, mate! We're excited to have you, isn't that right, Tommo?"

"Speak for yourself," Louis smirked.

"Don't listen to him." Niall rolled his eyes. "He's just stroppy because his hot date ditched him for the night, and yours showed up in a dress like that." He nodded across the room to where Cherry was talking to Sophia on the couch dressed in a gorgeous maroon, velvet dress.

Ed spent a moment admiring his fiancée before turning back to the group. "Where is he, anyway? I was surprised he didn't show."

"He's training for a triathlon and needed to rest up," Louis explained casually, before finishing off his cider and jiggling his empty cup. "Better grab a refill. Anyone need anything?" He asked, even as he backed away towards the kitchen.

For the third time, Louis dodged a conversation about his boyfriend (soon-to-be-fiancé) and made a swift exit. And Harry seemed to be the only one who had noticed.

“It’s really coming down, out there,” Ed commented absently.

Harry tore his gaze away from Louis’ retreating back and turned back to the conversation. He followed Ed’s gaze to the back window where there was a solid six inches of snow covering every surface. The rainbow lights that had shown through the snow in rows of soft color a couple of hours ago, were barely visible now.

“Jesus, I thought we were only supposed to get a couple of inches,” Niall frowned.

As if on cue, Adam and his wife appeared at Harry’s elbow with an apologetic smile. “We’ve got to get going, mate,” he sighed, “Our sitter has to drive home tonight, and we don’t want her getting stuck in this.” He nodded towards the windows. “Sorry.”

“No, don’t apologize,” Harry insisted, pulling him into a hug. “I totally understand. Thank you so much, for coming. It was great seeing you. Drive safe, please.” He added, pressing a kiss to Emi’s cheek next.

“Thanks, man, we’ll catch up after the holidays.”

“Definitely.” Harry nodded.

Adam was immediately followed by Nick, who needed to catch an Uber before they stopped running due to the storm, and Sandy and his wife who also had a sitter waiting.

 _So much for a party,_ Harry thought as he headed for the kitchen in search of a drink. He was cold and the smell of the spiked cider was turning out to be more than he could handle.

“He’s building houses in Peru for the winter, actually,” Louis was telling Josh. “So noble, that one. Harry! Hey! Where have you been?”

The gnawing feeling in the back of Harry’s mind was getting harder and harder to ignore.

“Everyone’s starting to leave because of the snow,” he pouted, glancing out the kitchen window.

Louis eyes followed his gaze before widening in surprise. “Jesus, it’s really dumping, innit?”

“Wow,” Josh agreed. “Yeah, my cars not going to make it through this if I don’t get going soon.” He turned to harry and held his hand out for a shake. “Thanks for having me, man. We should catch up--”

“After the holidays, yeah,” Harry finished for him. It was the fifth time he’d heard that in as many minutes. “Drive safe, yeah?”

After another round of goodbyes, Harry poured himself a drink and made his way back out to the living room, where he found eight more people pulling on coats. In fact, the only people not getting ready to leave, were Niall, Liam, and Louis.

“The roads are getting so bad…”

“They’re saying it’s going to keep up through the night…”

“We always hope for a white Christmas, aye?”

And Harry understood, he did. But he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t a little bit disappointed. For _once_ things were going so smoothly. He glanced at the tree, glittering with white lights, and the six boxes of bulb ornaments sitting underneath like a pile of gifts. And he swore, in that moment, that he’d never buy another Christmas tree in his life.

“Tell Zayn we missed him, yeah?” Sophia was saying as she hugged Louis goodbye.

“I will, yeah, yeah,” Louis nodded, pressing his lips into a tight smile.

“Where did you say he was, again?” she asked.

“On an Alaskan cruise, wasn’t it?” Harry asked, stepping in to press a kiss to Sophia’s cheek.

Louis’ smile went from forced to radiant in the space of a second. “Salmon fishing, yeah,” he nodded enthusiastically.

“Remind him he promised to send some back for me, would you?” Harry smirked, shooting a wink over Sophia’s head as he helped her into her peacoat. “Drive safe, will you?” he added.

“Of course,” she smiled before heading out.

And just like that, the four of them were left with too many cookies, too much spiked cider, and an underdressed tree. Just like every year.

“Can I take some cookies with me?” Niall asked as they headed back inside.

“You’re not driving back to Manchester tonight, are you?” Harry frowned. There was no way he’d let him make that drive in this weather.

“Nah, I’m staying with Lou,” Niall waved him off. “All my stuff’s over there, already.”

“And I’m staying with my sister,” Liam promised.

“Good, good,” Harry nodded. “Let me box up some cookies for all of you before you go, yeah?”

“Yes!” Niall and Liam agreed.

And while Harry did that, his friends -- the angels that they were -- began picking up cups and plates that had been left around the house, boxing up leftovers and bagging up rubbish. By the time he’d packed three bulging boxes of gingerbread men and sugar cookies (with _plenty_ left behind for himself), his home was looking nearly good as new.

“C’mon, I’ll walk you out,” Harry smiled, willing himself with every step, not to beg them to stay for a sleepover like they were back in Uni.

The boys shrugged on their coats at the door, before Harry led them out to the sidewalk, where only Niall’s and Liam’s cars remained, under a good nine inches of snow.

“Please drive safe?” he pled. “Text me when you get home safely?”

“Yes mummy,” Niall teased as he pulled him in for a hug, squeezing him tight. “Tonight was a good one, Haz. Thanks for these,” he added, indicating his cookies as they separated.

Niall trudged off into the snow, as Liam pulled Harry into one of his famous, warm bear hugs. “This was your best one yet, Haz,” he murmured in his ear.

“It was good, yeah?” he asked as they separated. “Until the snow sent everyone running,” he added with a sigh.

“Even still,” Liam laughed. “No one went to the hospital, no one got sick, nothing got broken!”

“We must be getting old and boring,” Harry joked.

“I think I prefer it,” he grinned.

Niall gave them a little honk as he pulled away from the curb. Liam turned to wave him off, but Harry was frowning.

“Louis took off without saying goodbye.”

“Get inside, Haz. Before you freeze.”

“Fine,” Harry sighed. It’s not like he couldn’t go see Louis any time he wanted now that they lived so close. But still. Why wouldn’t he say goodbye?

“Merry Christmas, H.”

Harry waited for him to leave, waving as he pulled out into the street, before heading inside with a shiver. He hadn’t grabbed a coat on his way out, and Liam was right. He was freezing.

He kicked his boots off by the door, locking it behind him, and wandered into the kitchen where he had a pile of dishes in the sink. The boys had been kind enough to pack up the leftover food, but dishes were never high on any of their priority lists. So he got to work rinsing platters and bowls and serving spoons and loaded the dishwasher to it’s limit before switching it on.

He was just beginning to wipe down the counters when music began playing in the living room.

His blood ran cold for the briefest moment, all those horror stories his mum had told him over the years of burglaries and attacks flashing through his mind like some sort of sick highlight reel… until he recognized the song.

 _And since we've no place to go_ _  
_ _Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow_

Slowly, in case he was completely wrong and there _was_ , in fact, a deranged psychopath in his home, Harry made his way to the living room. The sight that greeted him, was one he’d dreamed of for about five years. Better, in fact.

Because never, in all the years he’d loved Louis Tomlinson, had he ever dreamed he’d enter a room to find him dressed in elf pajamas (complete with hat) decorating a Christmas tree as he swayed along to Christmas music without a care in the world.

Shocked was a understatement. Harry was absolutely stunned.

He stood in the doorway, jaw on the fucking floor, and watched as Louis finished off the first box of bulbs before retrieving a gift bag from under the tree and turning to hold it out.

“Merry Christmas, Harry.”

“You already gave me a gift,” he found himself saying, lips curving up into a soft smile. “What’s this?”

“I gave you a _housewarming_ gift,” he shrugged, jiggling the bag between them. “This is a Christmas gift. And this whole festive, Buddy the Elf mood I’ve got going on, probably isn’t going to last forever, so you’d better hurry up and open it.”

Harry squawked a laugh, causing Louis’ smile to twist into that smug little smirk that Harry had fallen in love with so long ago. He took the gift, gesturing towards the couch before taking a seat and placing the bag in his lap. “Should I go get your gift?”

“Later,” Louis waved him off, dropping down beside him. “After the tree. But this one needs to happen before the tree. As soon as physically possible, actually, so get on with it!”

“Louis Tomlinson, is there a live animal in this bag?” Harry asked, simultaneously appalled at Louis for stuffing a kitten in a gift bag and so-fucking-excited to give Evie a friend.

“Open it and find out,” he smirked.

Harry allowed a giggle to escape as he reached into the bag, and just as his fingers brushed something soft—

“WATCH IT!” Louis shouted, lunging across the couch to jab Harry in the ribs.

Harry squealed, flailing his arms in defense, dislodging the bag from his lap in the process. He gasped, eyes bulging out of his head as the bag tumbled to the floor where it landed on its side and… nothing. It didn’t move.

He let out the breath he was holding in a huff and reached out to smack Louis (he dodged it) before reaching for the bag again. “It’s not a cat!”

“We already have a cat!” Louis scoffed, “And where the fuck is she, by the way?”

“Closed in my bedroom,” Harry chuckled. “Do you want to go get her?”

_“Open it, Harold!”_

“Jesus, alright,” he laughed, dumping the contents of the bag into his lap.

“We already have a cat. But we _didn’t_ have—”

“Matching Elf pajamas?” Harry asked, a slow smile crawling across his face.

“Matching Elf Pajamas, Harry!” Louis shouted, bouncing enthusiastically on the couch. “What are you waiting for go get changed!”

“God, I love you,” he beamed, yanking Louis forward by the collar and crushing him in a hug. “C’mon,” he added when they separated, “Let’s go find Evie while I change. She’ll be so happy to see you.”

He pushed to his feet and flicked one of the bells hanging from Louis collar before heading off in the direction of the stairs with Louis on his heels.

Evie was curled up in her favorite spot on his pillow when he entered the room, and Louis shoved past him before swan diving onto the mattress and burying his face in Evie’s neck.

“Hi, baby girl,” he murmured when she rolled onto her back and offered her tummy for him to stroke. “Missed you so much,” he whispered, beaming when she began purring loud enough for Harry to hear across the room.

“I show her all your Instagram stories, so she won’t forget you,” Harry admitted, feeling his cheeks burn in embarrassment.

Louis rolled onto his side, taking Evie with him and clutching her to his chest where she nuzzled against his chin looking happier than Harry had seen her in years. Three, to be exact. “I plan on spending a lot more time with her from now on.”

“You hear that, Evie?” Harry smirked. “Your daddy is happy you moved closer to him.”

Louis buried his nose behind her ear and pressed a kiss there before murmuring, “Tell your papa to stop fishing for compliments, and put on his pajamas.”

“Where did all this Christmas spirit suddenly come from?” Harry asked as he stripped out of his t-shirt and tossed it across the room, hitting Louis in the face.

Louis huffed and sat up, crossing his legs Indian style in the middle of the bed. He pulled Evie into his lap and continued to bathe her in affection as he replied. “I guess I figured I’ve fucked up enough of your Christmases, I wanted to try and make it up to you, for once.”

Harry ducked his head as he pulled on a pair of red and green striped pants. “You didn’t have to make up for anything, Lou,” he murmured before thinking better of it and glancing up at him. “Except maybe taking two weeks to come see me,” he smirked.

“Jesus, this again?” He laughed, tucking his long fringe out of his eyes.

“I’m five minutes away!” Harry laughed as he pulled his elf shirt on.

“I’ve been busy!” Louis grinned. “Don’t forget your hat.”

Harry frowned at himself in the mirror as he pulled his green elf hat down over his ears. He tried to tuck a rogue curl out of his face and Louis appeared at his shoulder with a fond smile.

“Turn around, lemme see.”

Harry turned and froze when Louis reached for him. He tucked the misbehaving curl up under the edge of his hat. “Your hair’s getting long again,” he smiled, trailing his fingertips down Harry’s jaw to tug at the curls dangling just above his shoulder. “I missed it.”

Harry’s cheeks were definitely flaming, but he couldn’t find it in him to care. “Me too.”

“And, erm.” Louis ducked his head, turning his attention to Evie as he continued. “I _am_ glad you moved to London. Really happy. And I plan on spending all my free time annoying you,” he added, finally glancing up to smirk at Harry.

“I’m looking forward to it,” he beamed. Then he stepped back, extending his arms to both sides. “How do I look?”

Louis’ eyes crinkled with the weight of his smile. “Like you’re ready to decorate a tree.”

 

They stopped off for hot, spiked cider in the kitchen before heading back to the living room where they spent an hour hanging ornaments. For the first time in three years, Harry had a fully decorated tree that he didn’t have to do alone.

Christmas activities were not designed to be done alone.

“Next year, you should add some popcorn,” Louis commented as they stood back to admire their work.

“You want me to add _popcorn_ to my tree?” Harry asked, eyes wide with disbelief.

“You just need to, I don’t know, make it _yours,”_ Louis insisted. “It’s beautiful, don’t get me wrong. But it just… lacks personality, I guess.”

“How?” Harry frowned, slightly offended on behalf of his tree. He quite liked his pink and gold Christmas bulbs, thank you very much!

“It’s just… impersonal.” Louis shrugged. “Like it could be in anybody’s house. Where’s the stuff that screams _Harry?_ This place is so cozy and homey, miles better than your last flat. Your tree should match.”

Harry turned back to his tree and stared at it thoughtfully for a few long moments. He thought of his mum’s tree, covered in crafts he and Gemma had made in nursery school, and #1 MOM ornaments they’d gotten her as gifts over the years. The camera ornament she got in honor of Harry’s business and the notebook and pen that represented Gemma. Then he thought of his flat back in Manchester. It was gorgeous. It was impeccably decorated, spotless almost to the point of feeling sterile, Niall had joked once. It looked like it belonged in a magazine, but it had never felt like a home. This house, with its brick fireplace and warm hardwood floors and windows overlooking a small garden, instead of a busy traffic circle felt more like a home after two weeks, than his flat ever had.

Louis might be right. He’d be damned if he’d admit it, though.

“Well, if it makes you feel better, I don’t know if I’ll do a tree next year,” he sighed, instead.

“Why wouldn’t you do a tree?” Louis frowned, dropping onto the sheepskin rug in front of the brick fireplace where he’d left his box of cookies.

Harry joined him, leaning back against the bricks facing Louis, as he watched Evie bat at the lower hanging bulbs.

“I’m not even home for actual Christmas,” he shrugged. “It’s kind of a waste to get a tree, only to leave it home when I go back to mum’s for the week.”

“What about your party, though?” Louis asked. “It’s tradition!”

“I think _not_ decorating the tree has become more of a tradition,” he scoffed. “And anyway, I think this was my last Christmas party.”

“Why?” Louis squawked.

Harry huffed a laugh at his dramatic reaction and reached into the box in his lap to steal a star shaped cookie. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I kind of suck at throwing parties.”

“No you don’t!” Louis frowned. “We’ve had some bumps over the years, but look at tonight! Tonight was a massive success!”

“Everybody left before ten, Lou,” Harry deadpanned.

“That wasn’t _your_ fault. You can’t control the weather.”

Harry shrugged, heaving a sigh. “I think I’ll leave it up to someone else next year. See if I can’t have one year without a party I don’t look back at and cringe.”

“Aww you can’t give up!” Louis pouted adorably. “When am I supposed to make a fool of myself in front of you now?”

That surprised one of those embarrassing honking laughs out of Harry. “What are you talking about?! It’s _me_ making a fool over _you_ every year!”

“Harry,” Louis deadpanned. “I brought a date, hoping to make you jealous last year.”

“And I got so jealous, I gave myself alcohol poisoning,” Harry countered, cheeks burning in shame at the memory.

“I cracked my skull open trying to orchestrate a drunken hookup with you.”

“I started this whole shit show tradition, when I threw a party with the sole purpose of orchestrating a drunken hookup with _you_. And instead, I got pissed and begged you not to leave me.”

“I waited until we were completely snowed in, before offering to catch an uber, hoping you would beg me to stay the night instead.”

Harry’s heart skipped a beat. “When did you do that?” He managed, barely above a whisper. And he thought he was blushing _before_.

“Tonight,” Louis breathed. “Right now.”

The cogs in Harry’s brain came to a screeching halt for a full five seconds before he came to his senses. All the details from the whole night -- from the moment Louis first walked in the door -- suddenly slotted together like pieces of a puzzle. “Where is Zayn, really?” He asked cautiously. “And, please don't say he’s lost in the Bermuda Triangle. You used that one an hour ago when you were talking to Nick. What’s the truth?”

Louis chuckled quietly, turning to stare into the fire. “The truth is, I don’t know where he is. We broke up last month.”

“What happened?” Harry asked breathlessly. His heart was slamming against his ribs so hard, he was sure Louis could hear it.

“He proposed, and I said no.”

“Why?”

“Because when I looked at him, down on one knee, all I could think was…” He swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing, before turning to look Harry dead in the eye. The light from the fire danced across his angled features highlighting his sharp cheekbones and defined jaw, and Harry found himself leaning in automatically. “All I could think, was that it should be you.”

“Lou…” Harry sighed as he began shaking his head, slowly at first, then faster when Louis leaned into close the distance. “Lou, no,” he hissed, stopping him with a palm on his chest.

Louis didn’t resist, of course he didn’t. But his brow creased with an unasked question.

“You can’t just show up and tell me you broke up with Zayn and expect me to fuck you, Lou,” Harry sighed. His eyes pricked with the urge to cry, but he wouldn’t. This conversation needed to happen, and it couldn’t if he was crying.

“Harry, of course not!” Louis frowned. “That’s not -- I mean -- I just…” He trailed off with a defeated sigh and leaned out of Harry’s space with a shake of his head. “I guess I just thought you wanted me, too.”

“I _do,_ Louis! _Of course I do!”_ Harry reached for his hand and gave it a squeeze. “I’ve wanted you for so fucking long, it’s embarrassing.”

“Bet I could beat it,” Louis scoffed.

Harry grinned at that. “I had a crush on you for years. Since day one, probably.”

“Why didn’t you ever say?”

“Because I was intimidated,” Harry shrugged.

“Of me?!” Louis squawked, “Why?!”

“Not you, so much as… like the guys you dated?”

“What do you mean?”

“You just always seemed to date guys who were like, completely out of my league?” It wasn’t really a question, but it came out like one.

“ _They_ were out of _your_ league?” Louis scoffed. “Harry, when are you going to realize that you are in a league all your own?”

Harry’s cheeks warmed at the compliment, but he shook his head. “You were dating Luke when I met you, remember?”

“Luke?” Louis actually looked like he couldn’t remember.

“You called him _Hot_ Luke, Lou. Like, that was his fucking name to you.”

“Oh, Hot Luke!” He nodded before scoffing again. “He was hot, yeah, but that was just fun. I was twenty.”

“You dated for almost a year!” Harry exclaimed.

“He was hot,” Louis shrugged as if that was explanation enough. “I wasn’t in love with him.”

“What about Zayn, then?” Harry asked, already dreading the answer, but needing it all the same. “Did you love him?”

“I thought we’d already established that? I didn’t love him. If I had, I would have said yes when he proposed to me, instead of humiliating him in a restaurant full of people.”

Harry’s eyes widened at that. He didn’t want Louis to marry Zayn, of course, but his heart broke a little for him all the same. “You dated him for over a year, Lou,” Harry pointed out.

Louis floundered. His eyes darted away, and his fingers tangled in the hem of his elf shirt. “I wasn’t in love with him, H.”

“Wait, you said you brought him to my party to make me jealous,” Harry suddenly realized. “You weren’t even dating him, yet?”

Louis groaned and ran a hand roughly down his face. “No, I wasn’t,” he admitted.

Harry frowned. “But… Like, I saw you kiss him, out on my balcony.”

“Yeah… That was when he figured out why I brought him. He only agreed to keep going along with it on the condition that if it didn’t work out, I had to go on a date with him. He kissed me because he knew you were looking.”

“So everything you told me that night--”

“I didn’t technically lie to you,” Louis hurried to explain. “But I intentionally led you to believe we were sleeping together, yes.”

“You said he asked you out on the first day of school,” Harry remembered.

“He did,” Louis nodded. “And I turned him down. We became friends quickly, though, and I brought him to the party hoping to make you jealous.”

“Which worked,” Harry supplied bitterly. “So how did you end up going on a date with him?”

“Well, the agreement was that if it worked, he would pay for my first date with you. And we never went on a date, because--”

“Because I spent a month ignoring your phone calls,” Harry sighed.

“Yeah, but to be fair, you were right to ignore me. I was a dick, and I deserved every single day you rejected me.” Louis opened his mouth to continue, then paused, cutting himself off. “I just…”

“What?” Harry pressed. “I just don’t understand how you went from trying to date me, to getting into a relationship that ended in a proposal in the space of a month.”

“Fuck,” Louis muttered under his breath, running a hand through his hair, before meeting Harry’s gaze with a new fire in his blue eyes. “I promised I wouldn’t tell you, but I can’t lose you again. I can’t let this turn out like every other Christmas party. I’m sick of it. I need this night to end with us being happy and in love and _together,_ Harry. For _once_ , I want it to end well.”

There were so many parts of that statement that Harry could focus on, but he needed answers first. “What did you promise not to tell me?” He managed, stomach twisting in anxious knots.

“That Liam forbade me from trying again,” he sighed.

“Liam, what?”

“Last year, after your party, I wanted to stay and take care of you, and he wouldn’t let me. He practically kicked me out of your flat, said you didn’t want to see me, and--”

“I never said that,” Harry frowned. “I was mad at you, but I never told him to--”

“I know. He admitted it a couple of weeks later,” Louis sighed. “I called him about two weeks later, and I was freaking out. You hadn’t answered my calls in two weeks, and you’d _never_ gone so long without talking to me. As angry as I’ve ever made you, we’ve always talked it out. Fixed it. So I called him, asked him to help me get you to answer. And he said no.”

“He did?”

“He told me he couldn't condone me fucking with your feelings anymore. He said every year I sweep into town and make a mess and then leave you to get over me again, and he wasn’t going to help me make a bigger mess.”

“Lou…” Harry sighed, reaching for him, threading their fingers together in a weak attempt at holding himself together.

“He told me to let you move on, and at first, I couldn’t. So I kept calling you every morning. And then one morning, you answered. And you had a boy in your bed.”

Harry winced at the memory. It was his first actual one night stand. He’d had fuck buddies, and casual flings, but he’d never gone out, picked up a stranger, and taken him home for the night. He tried to justify it with the knowledge that he _had_ at least learned the man’s name, but it didn’t help. Somehow knowing that he wouldn’t have done it at all, if it hadn’t been for Louis singing happy birthday to him on his voicemail that morning made him sick to his stomach.

“Liam let it slip that you’d been dating a lot since Christmas, and you were trying to move on. Eventually, I gave Zayn the date I owed him, and did my best to move on, too.”

“I wasn’t trying to move on,” Harry murmured, causing Louis to frown.

“What do you mean?”

“He was the only one, and it was just that once,” Harry explained. “I had barely got him out the door when a dozen Sausage Egg McMuffins showed up, and you’re the only one who knows that’s my favorite hangover food. It sent me into the worst anxiety attack I’ve ever had.”

“Harry!” Louis squeezed his hand between both of his.

“I spent like a week hating myself over the whole thing, and then Gemma told me to stop feeling sorry for myself and do something about it. That’s when I decided to move to London and try to win you over.”

“Wait, but you didn’t tell me you were moving down here until last month.”

“I wanted everything squared away first,” Harry shrugged. “I have a business. I couldn’t just pack up and leave. I had to establish a clientele in London, so I started advertising down here, and started taking jobs here, and--”

“Is that why you visited so much this year?” Louis suddenly exclaimed.

“I was working, yeah,” Harry chuckled. “And the weekend after Halloween, I was signing a lease on this place.”

“And you didn’t feel the need to tell me any of this until the morning after Zayn proposed,” Louis deadpanned.

“How’s that for timing,” Harry sighed. “I didn’t know he’d proposed yet, but knowing he was planning on it, almost made me second guess the whole move.”

“Wait, you knew he was _planning on it?”_ Louis’ eyes bugged.

“Yeah, he, erm, kind of told me?”

“When?”

“When I came down the week after Halloween? He kind of asked my permission.”

“You’re joking. What did you say?”

“That you were lucky to have found him, and that all I wanted was for you to be happy.”

“Harry…” Louis sighed sympathetically, for about the hundredth time tonight.

“I thought you’d say yes, and I didn’t know what to do because I’d just signed the lease, like, that morning. I spent about a week freaking out before I decided to just go for it. Even if you did marry him and have eight kids, I wanted to be closer to you.”

“I didn’t say yes,” Louis murmured. “Because the only person I’ve ever been able to see myself having eight kids with is you.”

“I’m glad you didn’t give up on me.” Harry smiled bashfully.

“I’m glad you moved down here for me,” Louis beamed in return. “Now if I try to kiss you again, are you going to stop me?”

Harry shook his head as Louis leaned forward and caught his lips in a gentle kiss that sent tingles down Harry’s arms and legs. He tightened his hand around Louis’ and pulled until Louis was on top of him, pressing him back into the rug beneath them.

 

*****

 

Louis’ hips slotted perfectly between Harry’s long legs, and he sighed contentedly at the feeling. He’d been here before, but it wasn’t perfect last time. There was a party raging in the other room, Harry’s breath was tinged with vodka, and his eyes were blurry as he rambled about how long he’d wanted this.

This time, Harry was sober, and alert, and smelled like cinnamon and apples from the cider he’d been drinking. The soft sounds escaping his pliant lips as Louis teased them open, had his head swimming. He’d had a taste, once, but it wasn’t nearly enough.

He planted his hands on the carpet either side of Harry’s head and pulled back until their lips were only separated by a breath. “I’m sorry I wasted so much time,” he breathed.

Harry’s large, warm hand slipped under the back of his t-shirt, and he gave him that smile that Louis had fallen in love with eight years ago. “I don’t plan on wasting anymore.”

He sealed their lips together again with a new intensity, flattening his gigantic hands on Louis’ back and pulling him down to press solidly against him.

Louis’ hips rolled desperately, and he groaned when they connected with Harry’s hardening cock.

Harry threw his head back with a gasp, and Louis took advantage of the opening to attach his lips to the long column of Harry’s neck. He began at his collarbones and pressed a line of kisses up to the hinge of his jaw where he sucked until Harry was whining, arching up into him, nails digging into his shoulder blades. When he finally released him, he leaned back to admire the quickly darkening bruise he’d left behind with a smug smile.

“Is that your way of telling me I’m yours?” Harry panted as his hands slid down to cup Louis’ bum through his elf pants.

“You’ve always been mine,” he murmured. “It’s just official now.”

Harry’s hands tightened on his ass, pulling him down to meet his thrusting hips. He groaned when his own hard cock collided with Harry’s, and Harry replied with a whimper before his hands began tugging desperately at Louis’ shirt. “Off, now,” he demanded against the column of Louis’ neck. “Need to see you.”

Louis pressed up on his hands, putting just enough space between their bodies to nearly kill him as Harry tore the shirt over his head and threw it off to the side. His hands immediately attached themselves to Louis’ chest and began exploring every lean muscle, every soft curve, and every line of ink. His mouth followed his fingers, sucking bruises to the script tattooed on his collarbones, and tracing the 78 with his tongue, drawing small whimpers from Louis’ lips.

“This is so far from fair, it isn’t even funny,” Louis panted, fisting both hands in the fluffy rug under them. He pushed back, tearing himself away from Harry’s hot mouth and sat back on his haunches between Harry’s legs. “Up.” He ordered, even as he gripped both of Harry’s big hands and yanked him into a seated position. His long legs bent either side of Louis’ hips, joining in the middle where his pajamas tented proudly. “Fuck,” Louis hissed as he gripped the hem of Harry’s shirt and tore it off over his head.

Harry flipped his unruly hair out of his face and reached for Louis, cupping his face between his big hands and bringing him back in for a kiss as Louis’ own hands took a turn exploring. Harry’s shoulders were so much broader than they’d been when they lived together -- muscular and strong. He chased away the mental picture that surfaced of Harry thrusting into him as he held him up, pressed back against the shower wall, and focused on the present. They had all the time in the world for showers and soap bubbles.

His fingers found Harry’s nipples, teasing them into hard nubs that he flicked until Harry whined, hips bucking into nothingness between them. Louis smiled against Harry’s swollen lips as he pinched one nipple, tugging a little rougher than he actually meant to, and Harry gasped, breaking their kiss.

“Fuck, Lou…” He panted, dropping his forehead to Louis’ shoulder. “Need you. Touch me, _please!”_

Louis dropped a kiss to the ball of Harry’s shoulder, then moved to nibble at his collarbone. His hands slid from his nipples to his ribs, and around to squeeze the love handles he’d always been a little too obsessed with before slipping under his pert little bum. Harry gasped when he lifted him, scooting him in closer against his thighs before leaning forward and flattening him on the rug, aligning their needy cocks once more.

Louis’ lips followed the same path his hands had, stopping to pay extra attention to the sparrows on his chest. Then the butterfly on his tummy. And finally the laurels framing his hip bones. He sucked another bruise onto one, then the other causing Harry’s hips to stutter against his chest.

When he leaned back to admire his handiwork, Louis spotted a wet spot forming on the front of Harry’s green pants. It was about six inches left of center just below his waistband and it was begging to be tasted.

Louis’ hands came round the top of Harry’s thighs, holding them open as he lowered his lips to the wet tip of his cock. He hummed at the sweet taste, and Harry whined.

“Mmmm, so sweet, love,” Louis mumbled against the thick rod in Harry’s pants. “Always knew you would be.”

“Louuu!” Harry groaned, clearly frustrated by Louis’ slow torture. “If you don’t do something soon, I’m going to start without you.”

Louis leaned to the side and took a bite out of Harry’s love handle, smiling smugly at the hiss it drew from Harry’s mouth before taking a bit of mercy on him, and pulling his arms out from under his legs. He slid his hands slowly up Harry’s inner thighs, snagging on the material of his pants, right up to the apex where he stopped either side of his bulge, hooking his thumbs underneath is tight balls, framing his package with both hands.

“God, I’ve wanted to taste you for _years_ , Harry,” Louis murmured, massaging the space between his balls and his tight hole. “You don’t even understand.”

“Stop crying about it, and do it, then!” Harry begged, sounding close to tears.

Louis giggled against his inner thigh before sliding one hand slowly up to cup his balls. They were drawn up tight against the base of Harry’s cock, and his hips rolled with the contact, pressing firmly into Louis’ hand as it traveled up his straining shaft.

He took his time reaching the head of his dick before circling it with a flat palm once, smirking at Harry’s clear desperation before tucking his fingers under the waistband of his pants and gently pulling them down just enough to reveal the leaking head.

Harry’s cock twitched as it was exposed to the cool air of the room, and Louis moaned in response, dipping his head to lap at the puddle of precome gathering in his slit.

Harry’s hands immediately found their way into Louis’ hair, pushing his face roughly into his lap with a loud, hissed, “Yes!”

Louis circled his tip with his tongue before closing his lips over the head and pulling back, taking Harry’s pants with him, finally pulling them down to reveal, inch by inch, Harry’s thick, hard, straining cock.

He teased the tip with his tongue as he pulled Harry’s pants down as far as he could without moving from between his legs before releasing it with a small wet _pop!_ Then he ducked his head, pulling one of Harry’s balls into his mouth, bathing it with his tongue before releasing it and moving to the other.

Harry was babbling nonsense, squirming on the rug and tugging so hard on Louis’ hair, he worried he might have bald spots by morning, but that was exactly where Louis wanted him. He’d spent years imagining all the ways he wanted to see Harry and touch him and torture him. He’d imagined the sounds he would make and the places that would make him squirm, but he’d never in his life imagined it would be _this_ good.

He moved back up to his cock, bracing it with a firm hand at the base and guiding it to his spit slick lips before flattening his tongue on the underside and sliding his mouth slowly down his shaft. When Harry’s hands applied pressure to the back of his head, he relaxed his throat and took him further, swallowing around his gag reflex when he nudged the back of his throat.

“Oh, my fucking God!” Harry gasped when Louis’ nose pressed into the curls at the base of his cock. “Fuck, Lou, I’m so fucking close!”

Louis pulled back until Harry’s head was the only thing left in his mouth. He circled it with his tongue, teasing the slit before sinking back down again. He was so turned on, his own straining cock pressed into the soft rug with no friction to help ease the pressure, and his mouth, so greedy for Harry’s flesh, drooled excessively, coating his hand flattened around the base.

He slid his hand through the steady stream, spreading it further south until his fingertips met Harry’s tight, puckered hole, teasing his rim with a slick thumb and causing Harry’s hips to stutter. He began thrusting, meeting every plunge of Louis’ head before arching back into the pressure at his hole.

The tip of Louis’ thumb slipped into the dark heat of Harry’s entrance, and that was all it took before he was coming with a shout, filling Louis’ mouth with what felt like eight years worth of pent up sexual frustration.

Louis moaned, swallowing over and over until Harry’s hips collapsed back to the floor with with a gasp, leaving them both panting.

As Harry’s spent cock flopped down across his hip, Louis’ pulsed, demanding attention.

“For fuck’s sake,” he gasped, crawling forward and straddling Harry’s hips before he pulled his pants down and flattened his erection on Harry’s stomach. “You have no idea how beautiful you are, do you?”

“Lou!” Harry whined as his hands found the globes of Louis’ ass and dug in with bruising intensity.

He buried his face in the curve of Harry’s neck as he began thrusting against the perfect porcelain of Harry’s tummy, using his own precome to ease the glide.

“So perfect,” Harry whispered urgently, every word a hot breath in Louis’ ear. “Love you so much, Lou, need you to come. Need to make you feel good. _Fuck,_ you feel so good.” His fingers hooked in the crack of Louis’ bouncing bum, pulling him harder against him with every thrust, so close to Louis’ hole he thought he might scream. “You’re so fucking pretty, Lou! Wanna see your face when you come, please!”

He sounded just as desperate as Louis felt, just as close to exploding in an earth shattering way, and that pushed Louis that little bit closer to the edge. With a desperate groan, he dragged his face from the warmth and comfort of Harry’s neck and sat up, bracing his hands on Harry’s chest, covering his sparrow tattoos completely.

Harry’s nails dug into the meaty flesh of his hips and he threw his head back on a gasp as Louis continued rutting down into Harry’s beautiful, soft tummy. His lips were so swollen and red, his neck and chest so flushed, bruised and abused by Louis’ own mouth. His hair was a tangled mess of curls fanned across the pillowy soft sheepskin spread out below them.

He stared down at the most beautiful person he’d ever seen in his life, looking so utterly fucked, and it was all because of him. He’d done that. He’d drawn those sounds from Harry’s sinful lips, and _he’d_ made Harry come so hard he was still twitching with aftershocks minutes later. Suddenly, Louis couldn’t hold back anymore.

“Harry!” He gasped as his hips stuttered. He clawed at Harry’s chest, nails digging into his pecs as he spilled, coating the gorgeous butterfly on his tummy in hot white come.

He collapsed on top of Harry, smearing both their bodies with the mess he’d made, but not caring in the slightest, because he had a new favorite place in the world, and it was right there, wrapped in Harry’s arms, tucked under his chin.

They lay there like that, wrapped up completely, for what felt like hours as their heart rates slowed and their breathing returned to normal. He was halfway to sleep, more comfortable than he’d ever been in his life, when the tiniest memory floated to the surface of his groggy mind.

 

*****

 

“You love me,” Louis mumbled against his jugular.

Harry’s hand froze in the the middle of spelling his name out on Louis’ back, and he grunted in reply, hoping Louis couldn’t hear the frantic beating of his heart. “Hmm?”

“You love me. You said so.” Louis hadn’t even bothered lifting his head to smirk teasingly at him. He didn’t laugh or jab him in the ribs like he usually would when making a joke at Harry’s expense. He sounded close to sleep, like every word took an incredible effort, and Harry couldn’t believe he’d chosen _those words_ to use that small amount of remaining energy on.

“Of course, I do,” he finally replied, barely above a whisper. He’d moved halfway across the bloody country for this man, the least he could do was tell the truth about his feelings.

“Good,” Louis sighed sleepily. “B’cause I’m in love wiv you, too.”

Harry’s stomach filled with actual living, breathing, fluttering butterflies, and his arms tightened around Louis’ smaller frame. He turned his head, nuzzling into his slightly sweaty hair and pressed a kiss there, just in time to hear a soft snore escape Louis’ lips.

Harry hid his fond smile in Louis’ hair and finally let the exhaustion of the day take over.

 

“Haz.” There was a hand cupping his jaw; a thumb stroking his cheekbone. And a beautiful raspy voice, whispering his name. “Harry, love, wake up.”

“Mmphh…” Harry grunted, turning his face into the warm hand in the hopes that it could save him from Louis’ wake up call.

“Your back is going to hate you tomorrow, if we sleep down here all night,” Louis insisted. “Come to bed with me.”

“You act like it’s your bed,” Harry chuckled, blinking his eyes open slowly. It was dark in his living room, only the lights of the Christmas tree still shone, casting the right side of Louis’ face in a warm light. His eyelashes made long shadows down his cheek that flickered everytime he blinked. “You’re pretty.”

“You’ve said,” Louis chuckled, ducking his head.

“Not enough,” Harry smiled.

“Would you, maybe like to say it some more in the shower?” He arched a flirty eyebrow down at Harry, moving his fingers to twist in his curls. “I’ve got dried come all over.”

Harry knew he was beaming like a madman, but he couldn’t help it. He had a half naked Louis lying on top of him, looking down at him like he was… _everything_.

“Yeah, a shower sounds good.” He nodded absently.

He stayed where he was, admiring the view as Louis got to his feet, pulling his pants back up.

“I’ll be in the shower, if you need me,” he said as he strode off in the direction of the hall. He paused in the doorway, glancing over his shoulder with a mischievous glint in his eye. “Or if you’d like to join me.”

There was nothing in the world that could slow Harry down as he leapt to his feet and took off after Louis.

Louis squawked, breaking into a sprint, and Harry knew he’d never catch him — he’d always been fast as fuck. He definitely didn’t mind the view as he chased him up the stairs, though.

He wrapped his arms around Louis when he caught up to him in the bathroom, burying his nose in his hair just behind his ear. He pressed a kiss there, and Louis giggled, squirming out of Harry’s reach.

“Since when are you ticklish?” Harry grinned, reaching into the shower to turn the water on before turning to strip his pajamas off.  
  
Louis' eyes followed the movement, widening for a split second before he turned away and dropped his own pants. “Just when I’m like, tired or turned on, or… whatever,” he explained with a jerky shrug.  
  
A slow smirk twisted Harry’s lips and he stepped closer. “When you’re turned on, hmm?” He reached for Louis’ hips, turning him around and pulling him in, pressing their naked bodies together more intimately than ever. He could feel Louis' cock, half hard, pressed against his thigh.  
  
"Shut up," Louis giggled, burying his flushing face in Harry's chest.  
  
"And are you always this shy about it?" Harry asked with a dimpled grin. Louis had been so confident downstairs, so dominant and sexy. This shyer side of his was unexpected and surprisingly endearing.  
  
"You just -- threw me off, a little..." Louis huffed another laugh, his breath hot against Harry's heated skin. "I just didn't expect you to just drop trou like that."  
  
"You've literally seen me naked a thousand times," Harry pointed out.  
  
"Doesn't mean your nudist tendencies ever stopped affecting me!" Louis scoffed. "You should come with a warning label, for Christ's sake."  
  
That surprised a giggle out of Harry, and he released Louis before leading him into the shower by the hand.  
  
They spent a few minutes kissing lazily under the spray before Louis reached for Harry's vanilla body wash and squirted some onto a pink loofah.

He started at Harry's collarbones and methodically scrubbed every inch of his chest, under his arms, down to his hips and... Then he turned him around and started at his shoulders again.

 

Harry groaned as Louis worked his thumbs into the tense muscles there until he felt like jello under his hands. He sighed, letting his head roll forward, and Louis finally continued scrubbing his back.

He hung the loofah on its hook before using his hands to scrub away any remaining soap. Then he turned Harry around again to make sure his front was adequately rinsed.  
  
Harry's hard cock nudged Louis’ hip, drawing a small gasp from the older man.  
  
A new kind of fire lit in Louis’ eyes at the sight. One that Harry hadn't seen in eight years of friendship.  
  
He pushed him back until his knees collided with the tile bench, and Harry sat without a word. He watched attentively as Louis washed his own body, the loofah roaming sensually across every inch of perfect caramel skin followed closely by Louis’ small, nimble hand.

  
He worked his way lower, slowly passing his belly button and running his fingers through the nest of curls at the base of his cock before circling it with his fist.  
  
"Want you, Haz," he murmured.  
  
"You have me," Harry managed. _I'm all yours._  
  
"Wanna feel you..." He sighed as he began tugging at himself.  
  
"Where?" Harry rasped.  
  
"Everywhere," Louis moaned, twisting his fist over the head of his dick. "Want to swallow your cock, suck you dry until you’re screaming my name."  
  
Harry gasped, reaching for his own neglected hard on.  
  
"Wanna tease you open with my fingers," Louis continued, "And my mouth. Make you beg for it, before I give you every inch of me. Want to stretch you open with my cock, want you to feel me for days."  
  
Harry whined, squeezing himself in an attempt to relieve some pressure.  
  
"You want that?" Louis asked in a gruff voice.  
  
"Yesss!" Harry hissed. “Fuck, yes, Lou!”

There was a loud squeak, and next thing he knew, the warm water had disappeared. "C’mon then,” Louis extended a hand, and Harry took it without hesitation.

Louis did a half assed job at drying them both off before shoving Harry towards the bedroom. His hands gripped Harry’s hips, urging him forward until his knees hit the edge of the bed, and he collapsed forward onto the mattress.

“Jesus Christ, Haz, you’re amazing,” Louis murmured as his hands slid slowly up Harry’s lower back before dragging back down to palm his cheeks.

Harry gripped the comforter in both hands, whining as his cock pressed into the mattress. “You’re such a fucking tease...” he groaned as Louis began pressing kisses to his shoulder blade.

Suddenly Louis’ warm body was gone.

Harry twisted, peering over his shoulder to find Louis pulling away. “Where are you going?!” He whined. He should be embarrassed, but he was just so fucking turned on by the infuriating man smirking at him from the foot of the bed that he didn’t even care.

“Lube in the nightstand?” he asked, ignoring Harry’s pout.

“Yesss!” Harry hissed, dropping back down on the bed in relief. “Condoms, too.”

“Don’t move,” Louis murmured, padding around the bed -- with absolutely _zero urgency_ , Harry noted -- before rummaging in the nightstand drawer for supplies.

By the time Louis returned, dropping the bottle of lube and a condom on the mattress at Harry’s side, Harry was shaking. His shoulders ached from the spread position his arms were in, his back was arched at just a little too deep an angle to be comfortable, and his shins were pressed uncomfortably against the bed frame.

But when one cold, wet finger traced a line from his tailbone all the way down to his balls, he forgot everything. Every thought left his mind in an instant. The knees and the back and the shoulders. The hair stuck in his mouth and the itch on his nose. Everything evaporated as Louis’ finger circled his rim, teasing, rubbing, _pressing_ , but not entering.

“Louuu…” Harry groaned, arching back into the contact. “Please!”

“You’re doing so good, love,” Louis whispered, free hand flattening on the small of Harry’s back. “Just need you to be patient a little longer.” He began rubbing, small soft circles that made their way higher until his chest was flattened on his back.

“I’ve waited eight years for this, Lou, don’t make me wait any longer.” Harry was panting with anticipation, his fists twisting in the comforter so hard he’d probably find tears later. He needed to be touched. More than that, he needed to be fucked. And not by just anyone.

Louis hooked his chin over Harry’s shoulder and pressed a kiss behind his ear, just as the tip of his finger breached Harry’s rim. _Finally._

He gasped at the intrusion, eyes rolling back in his head as Louis’ finger sank deeper.

“Fuck, so tight, love,” Louis panted in his ear.

“More,” Harry hissed. “I can take it.”

Louis twisted his finger a few times, before pulling it out and sliding two back in.

Harry pressed back, greedily taking the fingers without complaint, and it wasn’t long before Louis was adding a third. He twisted back and forth, scissoring them open and closed, and curled them until he found Harry’s spot causing him to moan loudly.

And then they were gone. Because that was Louis Tomlinson, defined, wasn’t it? The minute you thought you were getting somewhere, he disappeared.

Harry heard the tear of a foil wrapper and the snap of a plastic lid before Louis’ hands were back on him, flipping him over and crawling over him.

“Scoot,” he ordered, nudging Harry’s bum with his knees as he crawled up the bed. He didn’t stop until Harry’s head hit the pillow. Then he flattened his body on top of Harry’s and kissed him.

Harry clutched Louis, pulling him impossibly closer as they explored every inch of each other’s mouths. His cock twitched, causing Louis to smile into their kiss, finally leaning back to stare down at him.

“I can’t believe this is happening,” he murmured. “I’ve wanted you forever.”

Harry reached a hand between them, gripping Louis’ hard, slick cock in one big hand and directing it at his own hole. “I love you so much,” he breathed. “Stop making me beg and make me yours.”

Louis’ lips curled into the most beautiful smile, and he leaned down to rest his forehead against Harry’s as he pressed forward.

Harry’s eyes rolled back, moaning at the full sensation. He pushed back, silently urging Louis along and huffed a loud breath in Louis’ face when he finally bottomed out.

“Fuck, you’re so tight, H,” he hissed. “So fucking good.”

Harry whimpered, hooking his long legs over Louis’ hips. “Unnggghhh! Lou!” He whined desperately.

“You okay?” Louis breathed, tangling a fist in Harry’s curls. “Did I hurt you?”

 _“Move,_ Lou!” Harry gasped.

Louis smirked against his cheek as he began moving, starting with small, slow thrusts and building up to longer deeper ones, the louder Harry’s moans got. “Jesus Christ, Haz,” he panted, bathing Harry’s cheek in his hot breath, “Love the sounds you make. Holy fuck, you’re gorgeous.”

Harry’s nails scrambled for purchase on the soft expanse of Louis’ back, his hips arching to meet every one of Louis’ deep thrusts. His cock slid easily in the precome it was oozing aross Louis’ belly, providing amazing friction that had him begging Louis not to stop.

He hissed when Louis suddenly slid lower, catching his nipple between his teeth. He fisted a hand in Louis’ hair, keeping him there, teasing his nipple, tugging it, flicking it with his tongue. “Looouuu!!!!”

Louis hummed in response. The sound vibrating gently against Harry’s abused nipple. He was getting close, that familiar ball of heat curled low in his belly, and his vision was getting cloudy. His senses were overwhelmed in the most amazing way.

Louis shifted, and Harry groaned long and low, panting as Louis’ hips pistoned into him, hammering his prostate over and over. He released Harry’s nipple, pressing up onto his hands to meet Harry’s gaze with stormy blue eyes. “Need you to come for me, love,” he panted. His chest was covered in a thin layer of sweat, his cheeks flushed a gorgeous rose color, his hair was was an absolute mess from Harry’s hands. He’d never looked more beautiful. “Wanna come with you, love,” he hissed. “You ready?”

Harry moaned in response, tossing his head back as wave after wave of light and color washed over him. Louis stiffened, his thrusts became erratic, and he groaned, unloading deep inside Harry before finally collapsing to the side, rolling Harry with him.

It took ages to recover enough to move. Harry’s arms and legs felt like lead, his head was swimming, and he blinked stars out of his vision as Louis tucked himself into his chest.

Eventually, Louis rolled over, reaching for the box of tissues on the nightstand. He cleaned Harry up first, taking care to wipe up every drop Harry had shot over his own chest, before wrapping his condom in a tissue and tossing the whole wad towards the bin in the corner.

He settled back down on his side facing Harry with a yawn before giving him a small, almost shy smile.

“I love you, so much,” Harry whispered, looping an arm round Louis’ waist.

“You might as well, you’re not getting rid of me, now.” Louis smirked. He reached out to stroke the dimple that popped in response. “I love you, too, Haz,” he breathed. “So fucking much.”

“I have a gift for you.”

“Is it my album?”

“Mmm…” Harry hummed. “In the morning. Promise.”

His eyelids were beginning to droop when he felt Louis’ warm lips caress his own.

“Roll over, lemme spoon you.”

Harry groaned with the effort it took to roll, but hummed happily when Louis pressed his entire body against his, from shoulder to ankle. He threaded their fingers together in the middle of Harry’s chest, and Harry felt him press one last kiss behind his ear before he drifted off.

 

*****

 

Louis woke to the sound of a shutter, blinking his eyes open and whining at the bright sunlight flooding the room.

“Creep,” he mumbled as Harry giggled and lowered his camera.

“Exclusive perk of having a photographer as a boyfriend.”

Louis’ lips twisted into a slow smile as he rolled into Harry’s side. “Boyfriend, hmm?”

Harry blushed and pressed a kiss to his lips. “Please?”

“Of course, love,” Louis sighed, leaning into another sweet kiss.

They parted, and Harry turned, reaching over the side of the bed. When he twisted back, he had a large, flat parcel gripped in both hands. It was wrapped in silver paper with a white snowflake pattern and a wide blue ribbon tied in a fat bow on top.

“My album!” Louis beamed, tugging it greedily into his lap. “I can’t believe you still do this. I can’t believe you _ever_ did this.”

“The love of my life moved away and told me he didn’t want to miss a day. What was I supposed to do?”

“I don’t know, send me photos every now and then,” Louis laughed. “I should have known you, of all people, would take me literally.”

Harry shrugged. “It worked out, didn’t it?”

“Because we got together, finally?”

“That,” Harry nodded, “And everything else that’s happened in my life since then. It all stemmed from that little camera you left in your place.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, if you had bought me the camera for Christmas and stayed, I would have used it, but not every day. Even if you’d told me to photograph everything, I probably wouldn’t have. The only reason I committed so fully was because you were gone, and I needed to fill that void.”

“Awww, I left a void?” Louis teased, living for the pink rising in Harry’s cheeks.

“I didn’t realize how much of my time and space and… _life_ you occupied until you were gone.” Harry sighed, causing Louis’ smirk to tilt downward. “I filled all that spare time with photography. I had my old digital camera before, and I had always liked taking photos, but I mostly shot on auto and didn’t really understand the mechanics or anything. You bought me a camera that forced me to develop my skills. And I loved it. It was something that started out as a way to bond with you when you weren't here, and it morphed into this thing I couldn’t shake. I carried it with me _everywhere_. Took photos constantly. And I got offered my first freelance job a year later. And I couldn’t have afforded to move down here, if I was still working at the bakery. Because of you, I have a career that I love. And because of that career, I was able to move down here, to be with the man that I love.”

“It’s like we’ve come full circle,” Louis suddenly realized.

“And I have you to thank for all of it.” He dropped a kiss to Louis’ bare shoulder before nudging the package in his lap. "Open it."  
  
Louis grinned and tore at the paper the way Harry hated to do, just to push his buttons. The album was identical to the previous two, black leather with gold embossed numbers marking the year on the cover. He flipped it open and winced at the first photo. It was Harry, passed out on the bathroom floor in the red blouse and white jeans Louis had picked out for him to wear to his Christmas party last year.  
  
"Oh Haz..." He sighed miserably.  
  
"Liam took it after you left. I kept taking photos that whole first month while I was avoiding your calls, but I was miserable Lou, so they were all kind of dark and weird."  
  
"I see that, " Louis mumbled, flipping through the pages of those first few weeks. There were eerie dark photos of the trees in his mum's garden at dusk, after all the colors had faded from sunset. Empty coffee mugs and cupcake wrappers. There was even a photo of a beautiful country lane with a dead possum in the road. "Why did you keep them?"  
  
"Well, I didn't develop them right away," Harry explained quietly. "I wasn't sure I wanted to see them. But then as things started to change for me, so did my photos." He flipped to the next page, where the first photo showed him wearing a pair of ridiculous round white sunglasses on his head as he blew out a candle on top of a cupcake. His birthday.  
  
The next photo was a collection of a dozen Sausage Egg McMuffins laid out neatly in three rows on a marble countertop. In the middle, there was a pink post it with the words _thank you_ written in Sharpie in Harry's neat handwriting.  
  
"I couldn't decide, for sure, weather to include that first roll or not, until last week when I finally sat down to put this all together. When I laid it all out in front of me, I knew I had to keep it. It was part of my journey. It was the turning point that led us here."  
  
"I guess I get that," Louis sighed, flipping the page. "Doesn't make it easier to see."  
  
"Don't worry," Harry murmured, dropping his head to Louis’ shoulder. "It has a happy ending."  
  
Louis flipped through every page and let Harry point out his favorite photos, his favorite days. His trips to London -- God, there were a lot of them! There were several photos of, or with Louis, from the times they'd met up throughout the year, but Louis noticed, none of Zayn, even though he was present for several of those days.  
  
Finally, they reached the end. The last photo was of Harry's Christmas tree tied to the roof of his car, dated yesterday.  
  
"You've got room for one more," Louis pointed out, tapping the last empty space. "We could take a photo of your tree all done up pretty, for once."  
  
"Nah, I've already got today's taken care of." Louis' gaze followed the direction of his nod towards the nightstand where his old, scratched, Pentax sat, and he remembered the shutter that had woken him up.  
  
"You took a photo of me?" He knew, the minute he heard the click of the camera, but he didn't _realize_ . Didn't think about what exactly he was taking a photo of or what that implied.  
  
"I took a photo _with_ you,” Harry corrected with a smile. "The first of many."  
  
"Perks of having a photographer boyfriend," Louis nodded, returning his fond smile. "Yeah, I've heard."

  
  
  
**2019**  
  
“Do you want to go for a drive?”  
  
“What?” Harry turned his back on the mountain of dishes he’d just started on, to find his boyfriend leaning against the door jam with a fond smile on his face. “Lou, it's midnight.”  
  
“Our friends must be getting old if the party is over by midnight.” He smirked. “C'mon, let's go for a drive.”  
  
“Where?”  
  
“Around the city,” Louis shrugged. “Let's go look at Christmas lights. We've been talking about doing it for weeks, and we never got around to it.”  
  
That was all it took. “Okay.”  
  
Louis agreed to drive so that Harry could be free to take photos, and they set off at a snail’s pace, zig zagging through neighborhoods, _oohing_ and _ahhing_ over the best light displays. Louis made him sit through three different houses light shows synchronized to music, but he wasn’t exactly complaining.  
  
"Do you want to go see the big tree in front of city hall?"  
  
Harry narrowed his eyes at his man. "I _wanted_ to see the tree at City Hall three weeks ago when they did the tree lighting ceremony, but _someone_ fell asleep at seven o'clock that night.”  
  
“Would you believe me if I told you I took a sleeping pill that night, so I could bail without seeing the disappointment on your face?”  
  
“What?” Harry exclaimed. “No! That's absurd!”  
  
Louis just shrugged in response.  
  
Harry frowned. “Why would you do that?”  
  
“Because I didn't want to go see the best tree in London with two thousand other people waving selfie sticks in my face.”  
  
“Do people still use selfie sticks?”  
  
“I wanted to see it with you. Only you.”  
  
“Lou…” Harry whined. “Why didn't you just say so?”  
  
Louis nodded ahead, and Harry turned to find they were already approaching the tree.  
  
He lifted his camera. “Slow down so I can--hmph!” Instead of slowing down like Louis had done in front of every house Harry had wanted a photo of, he'd simply pulled over to the curb half a block before the tree, and jerked the car to a stop causing Harry to slam his nose into his camera.  
  
“C'mon.” Before he could ask where Louis was running off to in _negative ten degree weather_ , he was shutting his door in Harry's face and wandering off in the direction of the tree.  
  
Harry squawked and hopped out of the car, only to be hit with a wave of freezing night air. "Are you just gonna leave me here alone, in the middle of the street?" He shouted after Louis as he scrambled to get his coat zipped up against the cold.  
  
“Sorry.” He grinned, jogging back to loop his arm through Harry's before leading him down the empty sidewalk to the big Christmas tree.  
  
“You wanna take a photo in front of it?” Louis asked. “We could put your camera on the bench and use the timer.”  
  
“Yeah, okay.” Harry grinned. Over the last year, Louis had not only gotten used to having his photo taken constantly, but had also proved his own worth as a great assistant. He accompanied Harry on his weekend photoshoots when he wasn't teaching and loved to mess around with Harry’s cameras. And he surprised Harry often with ideas for angles or shots that Harry hadn't thought of.  
  
He took a minute to frame it, giggling when Louis checked _twice_ to be sure their whole bodies would be in the frame, before setting the timer and hurrying over to stand next to Louis.  
  
“Wish I'd thought to bring my remote,” he murmured, wrapping one arm around Louis’ shoulders, just before he was pulled down for a kiss.  
  
They held it, smiling against each other’s lips until they heard the shutter, then held it even longer as they warmed each other with a few more lazy kisses. “Can't believe it’s been a year since you moved here,” Louis sighed.  
  
“Or since we got together,” Harry agreed, dropping one more kiss to Louis’ lips. “This year has flown by.”  
  
Louis hummed. “You know there's no one else on the planet I would do this for, yeah? Brave the elements when it's negative fuck degrees outside, just to take photos of lights?”  
  
Harry beamed. “I know, Lou.”

  
“You're special to me, Harry. You always have been. I'll never love anybody like I love you.”  
  
Harry opened his mouth to reply with his own confession of undying love, but paused when Louis took a half step back, causing Harry’s hands to fall from his hips.  
  
He pulled his hand from his pocket to reveal a small black velvet box, and Harry's heart dropped to his toes. He opened it as he sank to one knee, before holding it up. “Harry, I don't want to miss a single day with you, ever again. You're the best friend I've ever had, and if you'll let me, I'd like to make you my husband. Will you marry me?”  
  
Tears were flowing freely down his cheeks by the time Louis finished, and all he could do was nod vigorously as he extended his left hand. “Yes!” He sobbed, dropping to his knees on the frigid sidewalk in front of Louis. “Fuck, Lou, _yes!_ Of fucking _course!”_ He cried, cupping Louis’ cheeks in both hands. He kissed him deeply, smearing tears and snot across Louis’ face, he was sure, but he didn’t even care. Louis had fucking _proposed!_

“Why the fuck are we on the ground?” Louis laughed against his lips. “It’s like ice.”

“I don’t know…” Harry laughed giddily, dropping his head to Louis’ shoulder and wrapping his arms around him in a hug. “I love you so much.”

The sound of a shutter caught his attention and he turned to frown at his camera, still sitting on the bench about ten feet away.

It clicked again.

“Lou!” Harry exclaimed, only to be met with giggles from his _fiancé_. He turned back to him, and Louis pulled another small, black object from the pocket of his coat.

“I stole your remote before we left the house,” he beamed.

“You--” Harry turned back to the camera with wide eyes. “You got photos of that whole thing?!” he exclaimed.

“Depends how well you set up the shot,” Louis smirked. “I was only in control of the shutter.”

Harry lunged at him, tackling him to the frozen sidewalk for another heated kiss before Louis shoved him back.

“We _have_ to get off the ground or my ass is going to fall off.”

“That would be a tragedy,” Harry giggled, wiping tears from his frozen cheeks as he got to his feet.

Louis pulled him in again once they were off the ground and pressed his face into Harry’s neck. “I love you, too.”

“Um, excuse me, could you take a photo of us in front of the tree?”

Harry turned to gape at the young couple holding an iPhone out to them. _“Now?”_

“I’ve got it,” Louis giggled, planting a quick kiss on Harry’s cheek before hurrying off to take a photo for this _completely clueless couple._

In the meantime, Harry went to retrieve his camera. He scrolled through the photos, tearing up all over again when he reached the one with Louis down on one knee holding up a ring. He was _engaged!_

He held his hand up to study the gold signet Louis had slid onto his finger. And that was when it hit him.

“Lou, we have to go.”

“What?” he frowned, shoving his hands into his coat pockets as he leaned in to look at the screen on the camera over Harry’s shoulder.

“We have to go home.”

 

*****

 

  
Louis smirked as Harry jogged back to the car. He did that sometimes. Got so turned on in public that he dragged Louis back home to suck him off or fuck him til they both passed out covered in come.

Harry hopped into the driver's seat and held his hand out for the key when Louis joined him a moment later. “You don’t want to take anymore photos on the way home?” He smirked as he handed it over.

“Who could think of Christmas lights at a time like this?” Harry demanded, pulling out onto the street and flooring it in the direction of their home.

Louis giggled and settled back, letting the seat heater warm his frozen ass. Never in his life had he imagined he’d be lying on a cold, hard sidewalk in negative ten degree weather moments after getting engaged. But it had taken him long enough to imagine Harry ever agreeing to marry him in the first place, hadn’t it? He supposed he didn’t have time to consider the fact that when you proposed to someone as utterly ridiculous as Harry Styles, it was bound to lead to some equally ridiculous snogging on a frozen sidewalk.

“Do you want to call your mum?” He asked, rolling his head on the seat to smile contentedly at his _fiancé._

“It’s the middle of the night!” Harry nearly shrieked.

“She’s going to be upset if she doesn’t hear until tomorrow.”

“Maybe you should have thought of that when you planned this whole thing, then.”

Louis erupted in giggles. “Sorry, love. I’ll plan better next time.”

Harry grumbled as he turned into their driveway. “Can you put the kettle on? I’m still freezing.”

Louis shrugged. “I mean, yeah, of course.” Apparently the urgency to get home had less to do with arousal, and more to do with a need for tea. He didn’t exactly mind, though. He had plenty of time to fuck his future husband. A whole lifetime, actually.

He made a beeline for the kitchen the moment they walked in the door because he was still shivering himself. Tea actually sounded perfect. He started the kettle first, then dropped bags into mugs before reaching for the Christmas cookies Harry had boxed up for their families who were all coming for a visit the next day to celebrate Louis’ birthday a couple of days early.

“Can I eat these?” He called into the living room where it sounded like Harry was starting a fire.

“Fuck it, the kids don’t need cookies.” He giggled from the other room.

“I can’t tell if you’re being sarcastic or not, but I’m eating them!”

“Bring the whole box with you.”

He turned when Harry’s voice was suddenly much closer. He was standing in the doorway watching Louis dig through the box of cookies. “Hey.” He grinned, reaching for Harry’s hand. He pulled him in and brought his hand up to press his lips to the **T** engraved in the gold ring on his finger. “I can’t believe you said yes.”

“Of course, I did!” Harry scoffed, grinning down at him. “How’s that tea coming?”

Louis shoved him back with a dramatic groan and turned back to the kettle. “Fine! I’ll get you your tea! Forget the fact we’re newly engaged, and all I want to do is snog your face off.”

Strong arms wrapped around him from behind and Harry’s chin dropped to his shoulder. “I’m so fucking happy, Lou,” he murmured in his ear. “I am, honestly. And I want to snog your face off too,” he added with a chuckle. “But I want to give you a present first.”

“What is it?” Louis frowned. “My birthday isn’t for two more days.” And array should know he wouldn’t even acknowledge Christmas until his birthday was over.

“I know, but after a night like this, I can’t wait any longer.”

“I’m not going to turn down an early gift,” he chuckled, passing Harry his tea before grabbing the box of cookies from the counter and nodding towards the living room. “Lead the way, then?”

There was a familiar shaped package on the floor in front of the tree and Louis’ stomach flip flopped. He’d recognize the shape of another album anywhere.

Harry sat on the floor with his back against the couch, knees drawn up to his chest, and patted the space next to him.

Louis dropped down mirroring Harry’s position and set his tea on the floor at his side. He passed Harry the box of cookies, stealing a gingerbread man from the top and took a bite out of its head before pulling his gift into his lap.

“I didn’t think you made one this year,” he grinned as he tore the candy striped paper off the black leather album.

“This one's a bit different,” Harry chuckled just as Louis’ eyes landed on the simple gold heart embossed on the cover where usually a date would be.

He frowned and opened the album to a selfie they had taken four years ago, the night before he had moved to London. Their cheeks pressed together. Harry’s lips stained red, cheeks flushed and eyes glassy with intoxication while Louis’ lips were pressed into a fond smile. “Aww…” he cooed, tracing the dimple in Harry’s cheek in the photo.

As he flipped through the first few pages, he slowly realized they were all from one night. That night. And he’d never seen most of them.

“Harry…” he shook his head in amazement at a selfie Jesy and Perrie had taken. In the background, you could clearly see Louis, Harry and Niall piled into Louis’ favorite green chair.

“I asked everyone who came to the parties to send me every photo they took. It took weeks for everyone to get back to me, but,” he shrugged. “I think it turned out kind of amazing.”

“Jesus Christ!” Louis laughed loudly when he flipped the page and found himself at the next years party. There were a dozen photos of Niall and himself taking shots, before finally, one of him holding a blood soaked towel to his head. There was even a selfie Harry had taken in the hospital waiting room when Louis had apparently dozed off on his shoulder for a moment.

The next section was awful. But also, maybe the best one. They laughed and pointed at Harry’s creepy death stare in the background of nearly every photo as he watched Louis, who, in turn, was glaring at Zayn in just as many photos. He had even included shots from his photo booth with similar outcomes.

The fourth section was the only one that was not a _complete_ shit show. There were more than a dozen photos of Harry and Louis together. Some with friends, some just of the two of them chatting or clearly flirting. Smirking at each other from opposite ends of a group photo.

There was a whole section of the two of them in Elf pajamas as they decorated the tree after all their guests had left, and finally, the photo Harry had taken the morning after. It wasn’t the first time Louis had seen it. In fact, he’d helped Harry burn off the entire roll of film that very same day, because he wanted to get it developed so badly. It was framed on their nightstand now, and a smaller copy was also hidden in Louis’ wallet. It was his favorite photo of them --  at least it had been until tonight. The one of him down on one knee might just knock it down to second.

Louis turned the page, and a little whine escaped his lips as he saw seven more of his favorite photos of the two of them. Harry rested his chin on Louis’ shoulder as he examined each photo, remembering every one perfectly. The day they went to the zoo together, last month when they’d gone ice skating and Harry had fallen and broken his tailbone. The time Louis attempted to make him pancakes for breakfast which ended in both of them covered in flour and batter.

All his favorite memories of the year were laid out on one page. The last space, though, wasn’t a photo.

It was a notecard with a handwritten letter.

 

_Louis,_

_You are the sun._

_You make everything warmer, brighter and better._

_You make the world turn and the flowers bloom._

_Nothing on this planet is worth a damn without you._

_But the sun needs his moon, too._

_I want to be your moon, Louis._

_I want to steal your heart and reflect your light_

_I’ll brighten your darkest days._

_I’ll chase you forever and fall for you always._

_Let me be your moon._

_Love you,_

_Harry_

 

Louis flipped the last page, and his breath caught at the sight of a gold signet tied inside the back cover of the album with a thin black ribbon.

“Marry me, Louis.”

Louis turned to gape at Harry with tear filled eyes.  “What?”

“Marry me. _Please_ , marry me,” he asked desperately. “I’ll never stop loving you, Lou.”

Louis lunged for him, tackling him to the floor in a desperate, breathy kiss so much like the one they’d shared on the frozen sidewalk barely an hour ago. “Yes!” He hissed against Harry’s plush lips. “Fuck yes! Of course!”

Harry giggled wrapping his arms around him, squeezing him tight. “I love you so much!” Louis leaned back to kiss him again and Harry cupped his cheek, stopping him just before their lips met. “Thanks for the idea, by the way.”

“Which?” Louis frowned. He heard the click of a shutter, just as Harry pulled him down for a kiss that ended when Louis burst out in giggles.

“God, I can’t believe you planned all this.” He beamed, dropping his forehead to Harry’s chin.

“I can’t believe you ruined it!” Harry laughed loudly, his hot breath ruffling Louis’ feathery hair.

“I can’t believe we gave each other the same rings,” Louis grinned.

“Well, I bought mine. Yours is better.”

“It is not!” Louis squawked indignantly, sitting up to look around for the album he’d flung from his lap.

Harry sat up too, taking the album from him and flipping it open to the back. He gently untied the ring and held it out between them. “I knew how much you always loved your grandad’s ring, so I had one made just like it, only with an **S** for Styles.”

Louis slipped his finger through the circle of gold before holding his hand up to admire it. “I love it, Harry. It’s everything I’ve ever wanted.” Then he reached for Harry’s hand. “My gran gave this to my mum when he died, and Mum gave it to me last Christmas when I told her we’d finally got together.”

Harry beamed. “You’ve had it all along?”

“Since _day one._ ”

They threaded their fingers together, lining up their matching rings and grinned.

“Hey, Lou?” Harry said after a pause.

“Yeah, love?”

“I’m ready to snog your face off now.”


End file.
